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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682152">I Love You, Molly Hooper</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FOREVER_SHERLOCKED/pseuds/FOREVER_SHERLOCKED'>FOREVER_SHERLOCKED</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Awesome Molly Hooper, F/M, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sherlock Holmes &amp; John Watson Friendship, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Fluff, Sherlock Interacting with Children, Sherlock in Love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:55:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>92,281</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682152</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FOREVER_SHERLOCKED/pseuds/FOREVER_SHERLOCKED</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A Post TFP story discovering the depths of Sherlock's love for Molly and the journey of them coming together through the trials and tribulations of the lives of Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper.</p><p>*I do not own the characters, BBC, Steven Moffat, Mark Gatiss do...I will be putting into my own words the original cut/unseen coffin scene from TFP that was unaired due to its darkness*</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>109</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>133</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Back To Baker Street</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>John confronts Sherlock about what has to happen after the events of Sherrinford.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Baker Street. The little flat with the highest foot traffic. The home that encased Sherlock Holmes, all that he was, and all of the adventures he has had with his Baker Street Squad. His home. Home...a funny little concept. What really WAS a home? Surely the definition of Home will change from person to person, experience to experience. But what was home for HIM? That is the question. Is it the building? Is it the small piece of mangled rooms that he calls a flat that exist within the building? Was it something more? </p><p>"Sherlock? Sherlock!?" His eyes shoot open and quickly focus on John standing over him with little Rosie, who is squirming and giggling before John sets her on his  chest and she burrows her little face into his neck. </p><p>"Oh hello John. Hello Rosie." Sherlock smiles and runs his fingers through Rosie's blonde curls, a mirror image of her late mother. "I was in my mind palace."</p><p>"Yes, I figured. You texted?" John puts is hands on his waist, as if he is dealing with his older child.</p><p>"Ahh, yes. Lestrade is meeting us here in ohhh...20 minutes." Sherlock states as he checks his watch. "He has a case for us, isn't that great? FINALLY!" He halfheartedly grins as he holds Rosie tucked into his side on the worn sofa.</p><p>"Finally? Sherlock we have had a case nearly everyday for a week. What the hell could you bloody mean, "finally?" This is getting..." John stops mid-sentence and tilts his head to the side, looking at Sherlock as if he is looking straight through him. "I know what you're doing."</p><p>Sherlock cocks his head and raises an eyebrow innocently. "What I'm doing? I'm not doing anything, I'm eager to solve another case aren't you?"</p><p>"Nope, nope. We BOTH know what you're doing. It's a distraction Sherlock. I'll admit I am not as good as you, seeing through people but I know YOU. I. KNOW. YOU. You haven't spoken to her yet have you?"</p><p>Sherlock avoids his gaze and begins rambling about the possibilities of this new case and that it is most likely an 8 on a scale on 1 to 10. </p><p>"Sherlock bloody Holmes!" John scolds him loudly. "What did I tell you hm? She's out there, she's alive, she likes you! You have no idea how bloody lucky you are!"</p><p>"Yes, yes and it's "gone before I know it". I know John. Except you have such a skewed way of looking at things."</p><p>"Me? Skewed? I have the skewed way of looking at things!?"</p><p>"Yes John. You started out scolding me about not speaking to Molly yet after...Sherrinford, and then you immediately move into scolding me about not contacting Irene because somewhere in your feeble mind you still believe that Irene is the end all and be all to me, which I assure you is not true. Irene was a challenge. An amazing challenge and extremely intriguing. She taught me that no matter how tough normal human beings try to be they all have weak spots that will ultimately be their doom."</p><p>John sighs, seemingly exhausted of Sherlock's fake demeanor. Afterall, he IS till a human man, regardless of how ignorant he can truly be. "Sherlock, you ARE human. And despite this cold and ignorant facade you so perfectly put on, I know you actually care when you choose to."</p><p>Sherlock huffs softly. "Yes, well my having weak spots gets people hurt or killed..clearly." He looks down a little Rosie, dozing in his arms with an expression of sadness and guilt.</p><p>"No Sherlock, criminals and psychopaths get people killed. You try to stop them. If people get caught in the crossfire, I am reluctant to say that you are not at fault for what happens to them. You always try to resolve the situation in the safest way. I know that and you know that. I know you still have guilt over Mary and the way I acted towards you was wrong. I know you cared for her as well. I still know that. Mary chose to take that bullet for you. She was stubborn and lovely. I know now that it was not your fault. Alright? Friends protect people. Remember?"</p><p>Sherlock sighs. "Right..friends..I suppose I should speak with her then. I'm sure shes still furious. Text Lestrade. Tell him to postpone until this evening. I'm going out." Sherlock swiftly arises from the sofa, sweeping Rosie into both his arms and then gently placing her into John's. He grabs his Belstaff off of the rack and ruffles his hair. "Wish me luck hm?" He mutters as he swoops out the door into the chilly London air.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Aftermath</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock collects his wits and decides to face Molly Hooper for the first time since the phone call at Sherrinford. It has been approximately a week since, and he had not been able to bring himself to see her face to face.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sherlock looks out at the familiar grey stone building that is Bart's Hospital. He hops out of the cab both eager and quite nervous to finally speak to her, after days of unresolved air between them. Hell, he has said not a word to her since the phone call. Damn Eurus for doing this, for fooling him. For KNOWING. Now he has this mess to handle, and he must handle it as delicately as he has ever handled any situation or any case he has ever had. Sherlock shakes his head at himself as he feels his feet moving towards the morgue. "No, she's not a case. She's not an experiment. She's not..not..any of that. She's...stunning. Her mind is unrivaled by any of my other friends. She's exceptional." </p><p>His thoughts drift to the many sweet and sour memories that he has had with Molly. He knows she has deserved a lot better from him, and yet, even at his absolute worst she is unwaveringly THERE. Every time. Anything he needs. She has been a constant and he hasn't once given her credit for it. She's been there, even when John wasn't. Even when he did the stupidest of things. Even when he was dying from multiple overdoses. Through all of that she still had utter faith in him and in his work and in his mission even if she had no idea what that entailed at the time. She knew how to put him in his place, to attempt to make him more human. She is his voice of reason, his source of survival in many instances. Sherlock knew this. He knew everyone else underestimated her now because of him. Due to how he has treated her. Bloody John even still thinks Irene is the definition of love for him. But no, she was obsession. She was challenge. She was rivalry. "Not Molly.." he mutters to himself. "If there's anything you need..anything at all..you can have me." Her words ring out into his mind like a loudspeaker in a gymnasium. </p><p>Sherlock snaps back into reality when he feels the cool brush of metal against his palm. His hand is wrapped around the door handle to the morgue. He has never been so hesitant in all his life. Not with criminals, murderers, terrorists. "But this is Molly" the voice in his head tells him. "This is the turning point. This is where I lose her forever, or I say the right thing. I cannot lose her. I can't lose her..." Sherlock closes his eyes for a moment, attempting to collect his thoughts and keep his emotions in check. After a moment he tugs the door open and steps in. He knows he does not seem as confident in this moment as he would like to seem. </p><p>Suddenly there she was. His Molly. "Wait..my Molly?" he questions himself in his mind. She's wearing a cheery pale pink and silver sweater with her khaki trousers and her lab coat that her small body cutely swims within. Her hair is to the side the way he likes, entangled in a neat braid. She looks healthy but sad. "You look sad when you think he can't see you...I know what it means, looking sad when you think nobody can see"  He hears her voice again from the day he realized she does a lot for him. He almost doesn't want to disturb her, but he needs to resolve this. He has to get everything out in the open. </p><p>Sherlock takes a few steps closer, noticing that she is very focused on..bones?</p><p>"What is it Sherlock?" </p><p>Poised as he was, he blinks a bit in shock. "Molly..."</p><p>"Can the discussion wait...please? I'm clearly quite busy right now"</p><p>"With bones? Is there some sort of case Greg has you working on that I don't know about?"</p><p>She sighs and turns to him. Oh, she looks beautiful. Her cheeks are a blushing shade of pink from the chill in the air, her makeup has gotten better and her eyes are no longer sad but determined and a bit annoyed. "No, these are the bones that were sent here from Sherrinford. On your authority, with Greg's help. I was just making sure they were all here and ready for the family.."</p><p>"Oh.." he swallows the lump in his throat forgetting that today was the day she was to examine them. "So..so those are...his.."</p><p>Molly's face softens a bit towards him. "Your childhood friend I heard...Victor Trevor. Greg told me that Eurus had...well, you know what she did."</p><p>"Yes..she killed him. Something about rage and jealousy because she was so different that she didn't have any friends...sounds familiar huh?" Sherlock steps closer and his face falls as he brushes his thumb along the tiny skull and bones. "I remember his family going out of their minds looking for him. I did too, even at age six. I wasn't as intellectual as her, even at that age...he died because I failed."</p><p>Molly chews her lip the way she does when she isn't sure if she should speak. "You've never purposely hurt someone who didn't deserve it, and I know you wouldn't. It was not your fault Sherlock. It was only Eurus' fault. You were a child. That type of pressure should never be put on a child." </p><p>Sherlock stands up straight again and turns toward her, taking a step forward as he had when he thought he was going to die. His sharp blue gaze meets her warm chocolate one and his demeanor immediately softens. "I wasn't going to fail again, Molly" he murmurs softly. "I wasn't going to fail again, not with YOU. I would've done anything to save you. Unfortunately, it meant hurting you to save you..for that, I sincerely apologize."</p><p>Molly looks up at him, her gaze never leaving his and knowing he is telling the truth. "Mycroft was by a few days ago...he explained the situation. I do understand why it had to happen now. But, that doesn't mean that it doesn't still hurt. I poured my heart out to you. Something that I had kept pretty quiet. Something that I had sworn to keep locked up tight for fear of becoming a fool." her eyes begin to water slightly. "Just one question.." she says quietly as she wrings her hands nervously. "Something about the last time you said it to me..felt real. Was it really just to save me? Am I really just pathetic to force you into saying it?"</p><p>Sherlock smiles sadly. "That's two questions..and..the answer is..no." Sherlock can feel himself becoming emotional as the knot in his stomach and the pressure in his chest grows. "When you first demanded that I say it first, I admit I was very taken aback and I didn't even know if I could. Those words were not in my vocabulary when strung together. However, I said it to save you and then everything came to the surface and I heard myself saying it again, knowing that it was real." He pauses for a second. "I don't know what that means for us, Molly. I just know that in whatever heart I may have under my flesh, I cannot carry on without you in my life. You are, and always have been a constant. You singlehandedly put me in my place more than once. You have saved my life. You have been extremely vital in many ways. There is nobody else like you, Molly Hooper. It would be such a tragedy to me if I felt a loss of your presence in my crazy life. You ground me. I meant what I said before. You have always mattered, and I've always trusted you. I-I love you, Molly Hooper."</p><p>Slow tears make their way down Molly's porcelain face and she shuffles shyly, looking up at him. "You mean all that?"</p><p>"100% Doctor Hooper" Sherlock smiles genuinely for the first time in awhile, the small creases around his eyes giving away that it was real. His large hands gently cup and frame her face as she looks at him speechless. Without thinking about what he was doing, he found himself pressing his lips to hers. His mind whirs with images of her as the taste of her tongue, feel of her small hands on his neck, and scent of her cherry vanilla perfume encases him in warmth and everything HER.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Catalogue of Sentiment</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock, John, and Lestrade discuss the details of a new case, as Sherlock struggles with new emotions.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After what seemed like an eternity, Molly pulled back breathless. She stared at him, mixed with awe and doubt. "What the bloody hell was THAT?" she managed to question, her voice coming out as an appalled squeak. </p><p>Sherlock looks at her speechless for a moment, his mind jumbling together all of the words he would like to say to her in that very moment. "Uhh.." he stalls, finally clearing his throat. "Well that..that would be..proof." he exclaims, matter-of-factly. "C'mon Molly, you're a scientist of many sorts, you must know by now that all claims, however eccentric, must be backed up with evidence and knowledge of the subject-- both of which you have."</p><p>"Proof, huh? Right, okay. Proof." she mutters and looks at him. "Sherlock...this is a lot to process, however simple my mind may be to you." Molly looks intently up at his unsure face. "I do forgive you, for everything you have done in the past. I know this recent 'adventure' of yours must have taken a lot out of you, and shaken you up enough to question the entire basis that your life has revolved around. I feel for you, and I see you..the way I always have." she continues, "I understand after seven years of knowing you and four years of being a confidante to you that it will come with some risks, and some emotions, and some complications. In short, what I'm saying is...you've become a better person and you have grown and I do forgive you. However, hurt doesn't just go away, it slowly fades. So you will have to forgive me if I get irritated at you a bit more than usual for awhile going forward...okay? I'm not as resilient as Sherlock Holmes."</p><p>Sherlock continues to gaze down as her, actually taking in all she is saying to him. He nods acceptingly. "Firstly, Molly, your mind isn't as simple as John's, or Mrs. Hudson's or even Greg's. You may be a more quiet type, but you are exceptionally brilliant in your own light. I have always known that. As for being irritated by me, that goes without saying, hm? Everyone gets irritated at me." He smirks softly and she chuckles in response. "Plus, you are more resilient than you believe. Your silent strength is impeccable and lasting."</p><p>She draws in a breath and slowly releases it. "That was lovely....for the record." Molly smiles and her cheeks flush pink as she resumes fiddling with her hands. Sherlock smiles softly. "Yes it was..however, you have work to do. I'll be going now, I just wanted to explain myself. You deserved that for all you've done for me."</p><p>Molly smiles cutely and chews her bottom lip. "I'll do right by Victor. I realize the impact of this on you, your family, and his." Sherlock's face looks sad again as he remembers in clarity the events that had led up to the small boy's remains being discovered. "Thank You, Molly. I know you will." he looks into her eyes for a moment before striding out of the morgue once again, hailing a cab to Scotland Yard.</p><p>A shadowy figure slips out of the adjoining darkened corridor that is recently under construction. He smirks menacingly as he looks down at his digital camera. A photo of Sherlock and Molly's most intimate moment captured on the screen, looking back. He flips through a few more photos of intense looks the pair had shared moments earlier during their conversation. "Oh, I've got you Mr. Holmes. You'll pay for what you did...burn the heart out of you, indeed." Deep laughs resound through the hospital as the figure makes an exit. "Indeed."</p><p>                                                                                    ~~~~~~~</p><p>Sherlock stares out of the window in the cab before slipping his mobile out of his coat pocket. He taps his thumbs across the screen quickly. {Meet me at Scotland Yard. I've finished doing what I needed to do. Going to speak with Lestrade if you want to be a part of it. -SH}</p><p>{I'll meet you there. Seeing if Mrs. Hudson can take Rosie for a bit. No idea what it's about yet? ~John W.}</p><p>Sherlock rolls his eyes and replies. {If I knew what it was about, John, I wouldn't need to go to the building filled with second rate, highly paid, egotistical government employees would I? -SH}</p><p>John snorts and hands Rosie to Mrs. Hudson. "I shouldn't be long, Sherlock and I are just running to speak with Greg about a possible case. If you need help after 5, let me know and I'll have Molly pick her up here." </p><p>"Oh, don't be silly John, she's an absolute angel. Reminds me of when my boys were little...she makes me feel like I could really be a grandmother. I'll never mind." Martha says in between smiling and cooing at the small girl in her arms. He smiles and strokes Rosie's hair, kissing her chubby cheek. "Goodbye little Miss Rosamund. Daddy will be back in a short while." John smiles and kisses Mrs. Hudson's cheek. "You are like a grandmother to her. We may have the craziest family type unit, but it works, doesn't it? Thanks again. I'll see you both later. Oh...one small favor?"</p><p>"Anything John" she grins at him quizzically. John clears his throat. "Well er..can I borrow your car?" Martha laughs for a moment. "Oh hon, don't seem so scared. I suppose you can borrow it. It's a small price to pay for spending time with this precious girl. But hear me, hm? If you so much as put a small ding in it, you'll be begging for Sherlock to rescue you from me." she responds, a scolding motherly fire in her eyes. John blinks a few times. "Erm..yes ma'am." she shouts behind his shoulder as he grabs the keys and scuttles out the door of 221B. </p><p>                                                                                     ~~~~~~~</p><p>The revving bright red sports car pulls up in front of New Scotland Yard. People turn heads to look as John Watson steps out with an air of confidence, locking the doors and slipping the keys safely into his pocket. He saunters into the building and heads to Greg's office, nobody stopping him, as the sight of John Watson and Sherlock Holmes have become a fairly common event. He enters the room, closing the door behind him. </p><p>"Greg, Sherlock. Sorry, I had to get Mrs. Hudson to watch Rosie...what's it about?"</p><p>Lestrade leans back in his chair, kerfuffled. "I was trying to tell Sherlock about a case we can't seem to solve and he doesnt think it's worth his time. I think it is. Care to tie break?"</p><p>Sherlock rolls his eyes. "It's a complete waste of my time and I could be doing more important things."</p><p>"Right okay..well if one of you would get on with telling me what it is about, maybe I could decide." John sighs.</p><p>"Random killings around the city. Or, rather, what we assume to be killings. People have been vanishing into thin air, never turning up. One can only assume they are dead, right? We haven't been able to find a common link to any of them, except the fact that they are all around thirty to thirty-five years of age and recently married or dating. So far there's been two males, three females. None of the assumed victims knew each other by what information we have gathered from the families." Greg explains.</p><p>Sherlock pipes up. "One doctor, one cop, one lunch lady, one construction worker, one receptionist. Jobs don't seem to align. One lives in Hackney, one in Camden, one in Westminster, one in Kensington, one in Brixton. Homes don't align either. They all went to different schools and colleges. None of them has any prominent enemies. I don't see how this case is interesting. They could have all just left their partners or had something pressing to do? Isn't "ghosting" prominent in modern times in younger people? There isn't even an indication that a murderer is involved. Boring."</p><p>"No, well, Sherlock this actually does seem interesting. People don't just vanish, right? Remember the Ian Monkford case? He didn't die, but he chose to vanish. You solved that one pretty quickly. What's the harm in trying? You have been quite starved for cases anyway." John points out.</p><p>John and Lestrade look at him questionably. Sherlock groans and rolls his eyes. "Dear God, fine. Just stop with the pity looks already its incessant and annoying. I am OVER it. I'm fine. My sister is fine. Everything is..."</p><p>"Fine." Greg and John say in unison. "Yes" Sherlock snaps a bit. "As a matter of fact it is. Who knows, maybe John is getting better at choosing cases, even though I doubt it but hey, I'll give him his small moment of glory. You win John. We'll take the case. Feel better?" Sherlock says with a tinge of aggravation. He grabs the copied files from the folder with his name on it from Lestrade's desk. "Are we finished here?"</p><p>Lestrade runs a hand through his silver, fresh cut hair. "Yeah..yeah Sherlock. Good luck."</p><p>"Luck isn't something I need Lestrade. Luck is a false notion thought up by desperate, basic humans when they want to give themselves a sliver of reassurance through their failures."</p><p>"Right then!" John pats Sherlock's shoulder. "Time to go. Come on, Sherlock." he exclaims as he looks over his shoulder, giving Lestrade an apologetic glance. </p><p>They walk out in tense silence until John pulls the car keys out of his pocket. "Mrs. Hudson let me borrow the car. Amazing isn't it?"</p><p>"She did? That thing is a trophy to herself for choosing me to ensure her husband's death. I never thought she would entrust you with it. And no, it's a vehicle. There's not much amazing about it. Then again, any simple minded male such as you would lose their wits about driving it even once, so sure, John, amazing." Sherlock rambles as he slumps into the passenger seat and shudders. "Just reminds me of the damn boot."</p><p>John chuckles. "That, you deserved. But anyhow, you're in a sour mood. Something must've happened at Bart's. Care to spill the beans?"</p><p>"Nothing really. Just apologized. She's Molly. I knew she would understand."</p><p>"Bollocks Sherlock, you were terrified. Yes, she's Molly. But she's also a woman, and there is only so much a woman can take before being done. Believe me. I'm shocked she hasn't tossed ya already. There is no way you knew how she would react and that scared you. Admit it!"</p><p>"Okay fine, I didn't. But all is well. I'm not in a 'sour mood' as you so elegantly put it. You know me, I speak bluntly and to the point. I'd think you'd be acclimated to it by now, John."</p><p>"There's a difference between the 'blunt and to the point' Sherlock, and the friend and godfather type Sherlock. Point being, the 'blunt and to the point' Sherlock usually comes out when he is faced with something he isn't quit sure he knows how to handle, so he gives everyone a tongue-lashing to prove himself. Whereas, the friend and godfather Sherlock has more of a catalogue of sentiment, despite what he thinks."</p><p>Sherlock huffs and slinks down in the seat more, turning towards the window, looking at the city buildings and buses pass by them. "Oh, shut up. I have to think about your ridiculous case." </p><p>John drives through London for awhile, stopping in front of Angelo's. A known bolthole for when Sherlock is overwhelmed with whatever he is feeling, as everyone knows he'll never tell directly. "C'mon, you're going to have a decent meal and maybe a pint. You clearly need it."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Rest In Peace, Little Victor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock has a hard time dealing with his newfound sensitive emotional state as he attends the burial of his childhood best friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sherlock woke up the next morning with a groan, realizing he is in his bed. He turns to his side and a flash of purple catches his eye. Looking down groggily he takes in the fact that he is still fully clothed from the previous day. He shakes his head as if doing so would unjumble all of the words, emotions, and facts from the day before back into chronological order. "Angelo's" he gasps, as he sits up a little too quickly, eliciting another groan from his lips as his head begins to spin yet again. Sitting for a moment on the edge of his bed, he rubs his temples and collects his thoughts, remembering everything that had happened and how he had tried to drink his emotions away that evening during dinner. "Bit not good.." he mumbles to himself, continuing. "I don't need another addiction added to my list..Mycroft will kill me...and why am I talking to myself?". He sighs and and gets up, but the blinking light from his phone steals his gaze. Grabbing it, he quickly opens his unread texts.</p><p>{Sherlock Holmes, you had better be awake by now boy. Victor's funeral starts at 10:00am, however it is limited and private, BUT people are expected at the cemetery for 11:30am. You'd best not be late for any case or otherwise. xo Mum}</p><p>"Shit!" Sherlock exclaims as he glances at the time, which reads 8:30am, before quickly tapping out a reply to his mother.</p><p>{Yes, Mother. I am not incapable of having a spotless memory, don't you worry. -SH}</p><p>He receives a near immediate response and rolls his eyes, knowing he had better read what she wrote. His mother Violet was an extremely fast typist, as she had taken it up as a part time job some years ago and is always thrilled to learn new technology. His father Benjamin, not so much.</p><p>{I have been in contact with Victor's parents all these years and I had to sit down and explain to them what happened. They are not so fond of your father and I anymore, however, they understand to an extent. Do you remember his parents? Callum and Lilly? They still have the highest regards for you, as they loved seeing you two play together as young-uns. Remember your manners today! I can't imagine losing either of my boys...my heart breaks for them, especially knowing my actions regarding your sister could have prevented this had I seen the signs sooner... that nice pathologist , I believe Molly is her name, is invited that they spoke to when blessing his remains. Heard you were a colleague of hers, and John of course. They have seen the newspapers. Very impressed with you. So again, mind your manners and remember this is a horrible occasion for them. xo Mum}</p><p>Sherlock swallowed the lump in his throat and let out a breath that he has apparently been holding in while reading her text. {I promise you I will try and be on my best behaviour. Not sure if Molly will be coming, but I will give her the option. John will be attending. -SH}</p><p>{You will do more than try, boy. I will see you and your friends at the cemetery. xo Mum}</p><p>Sherlock showers, dresses, shaves, and attempts to tame his wild mess of curls. He grabs his mobile and composes a new message to John. {Still attending the burial today with me? May need a support system, I hate to admit. -SH}</p><p>{Yeah, just getting ready now. Mrs. Hudson agreed to watch Rosie. I'll be by Baker Street in 30. How is your head? LOL ~John W.}</p><p>{I cannot believe you didn't stop me. Not funny. -SH}</p><p>{Bit funny. And hey, I DID get Lestrade and his boys to drag ya up to bed again. You're welcome for that. ~John W.}</p><p>{Great John..just great. Yes, thanks a whole LOT -SH}</p><p>Sherlock sighs and flicks to compose another message, looking down at the name "Molly Hooper" in the receiver's field. He knows that Mummy will have his head if she figures out that he never even tried to invite her, but he was unsure of himself with her now. Blinking a few more times, and feeling a quite irritating flutter in his chest, he types out the message in the most simplest of terms.</p><p>{Hello Molly. Victor Trevor's burial is today. His parents took a liking to your kindness and would like to know if you could attend. Yea or Nay? -SH} Sherlock stares at the screen as the three writing bubbles flitter above his left thumb, signaling that a response was imminent.</p><p>{I could attend, sure. Unless you are uncomfortable with that... xxx Molly}</p><p>His thumbs fly across the keyboard faster than he would have liked. Whatever he says, he does not want to disturb her. {No, your kindness was felt and it makes an impact. I think it's a good idea that you attend. Can you be ready by 10:30am? It takes about an hour to get there. -SH}</p><p>{Alright then.. yes I can be ready. Are you going to text me an address..or are we carpooling...whats the travel plan? xxx Molly}</p><p>Sherlock furrows his brow, unsure how to respond, as he actually hadn't thought about getting there. {John was going to pick me up. He could pick you up too on the way unless you prefer to drive on your own? -SH} His pulse races at the thought of having to travel an hour in a small car in Molly's presence the entire way there and back to London, wishing she declines but also accepts at the same time. He sees the familiar type dots fluttering again, and stopping, and fluttering again and internally swears. "Well? Come out and say it already" he mutters to himself.</p><p>{Well John's car is a bit small, so why don't I meet you two there. Just send me the GPS directions okay? xxx Molly}</p><p>Sherlock cant help but feel a bit disappointed, but he shakes it off and forwards her the address that his mother had sent him a couple days ago.</p><p>{Okay. -SH}</p><p>Molly chews her lip, looking at the tiny response while wrapped in her bath towel fresh out of a shower, hair dripping down her back. She wonders if he's disappointed, even just a little bit that he won't be very close to her for so long. "Molly..why do you always have to do the right thing instead of what you want, huh?" she scolds herself. "Oh, I know why. Because you're an utter moron who self destructs, thats why." She dresses and goes into her kitchen, feeding Toby and scratching his little head. "Oh Toby...I have wanted this attention from him for so long, and now that it is just within my grasp I have to play the good guy. It's not fair, you know." He meows cutely in response and nuzzles her hand before diving into his food.</p><p>Molly goes to her closet and opens it wide. "Now...what would really make Sherlock stop and stare..." she rattles off. "Oh, for Christ's sake Molly. This is a funeral, have some class. Black. Go with black. Nothing too revealing, nothing too flowery. Funerals are sad." She reminds herself, making a mental note. She sees the dress from that fateful Christmas Eve and scoffs. "HARD pass, forever. No idea why I still have this.." She tries on at least twelve black outfits and groans, flopping onto her bed in her underwear. "I look like a fucking nun. How in the bloody hell have I been dressing? I have to have SOMETHING nice I can wear. ANYTHING nice." Sauntering over to her closet once more, she does a final sweep, her hand catching a black object that had been buried deep behind her colorful, flowery dresses and sweaters. She gently pulls it out and gasps. "Ohh I totally forgot I bought this. This is perfect" she exclaims, grinning as she holds it up to her slim body in the mirror, and grabbing her makeup bag from her dresser.</p><p>
  
</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>From the moment they pulled up at the cemetery, Sherlock knew that if there was a higher power, or a heaven, that Victor has finally found his peace. The sun was brightly shining, the grass was as green as it could get, the tulips were in full bloom and it was the perfect temperature for being outside. Victor loved the springtime and unlike Sherlock, was a very outgoing child who adored the outdoors more than anything. Sherlock remembers that the more his friend spent out in the sun, the darker the little freckles on his nose and cheeks would get. Being a redhead would do that to him, however he rarely got burned from the sun unlike most native Irish.</p><p>Looking up at the blue sky and fluffy clouds, Sherlock gets a memory flash of when his parents took them to meet the new neighbors from Ireland. The Trevor Family. Sherlock was not very amused at the idea, probably because Mycroft wasn't, and he remembers thinking their accent was funny when his mummy got to chatting at the door with whatever baked goods she had brought along. Then from behind his own mum's very magenta skirt, out peeked a young redhead boy, about his age he deduced, with a missing front tooth and freckles. He looked friendly, and energetic and was grinning brightly. His mum, Lilly, introduced him as Victor. It seemed from that day on the two boys were inseparable. Sherlock taught Victor about little puzzles, and Victor brought Sherlock out of his shell. But what they both had a mutual love for was pirates. They would play pirates for hours and hours; Yellowbeard and Redbeard, into the evening until their mums called them for dinner.</p><p>Sherlock snapped out of his mind palace as he felt a jab against his ribs. "Sherlock" John growled, though in a whisper. "Everyone is gathering. You may want to stop sunning your face now."</p><p>"Hmm? Right, yes, sorry." he murmurs as he quickly scans the premises for Molly. He spots her little yellow Beetle car and smiles to himself. "Uhh, John, you go on ahead. I'll walk Molly up so she doesn't feel out of place."</p><p>"You..what?" John gives him a quizzical look, then blinks. "Alright then."</p><p>Sherlock makes his way over to Molly's vehicle and waits for her to step out. When she finally does, his mind goes blank and he's pretty sure he lost all control to actually control his jaw.</p><p>"Morning, Sherlock." Molly smiles sweetly. "Nice day, weather wise. I'm sure everyone is glad about that...erm...Sherlock?" She inwardly praises herself for making him look at her in awe.</p><p>"Uhh.." Sherlock clears his throat. "Yes..yes..nice weather..day, indeed. Er.. you look...nice."</p><p>Molly can feel her cheeks heating up, despite the compliment being a small one. "Thank You. Um, shall we?" she motions towards the group.</p><p>"Yes, of course." Sherlock replies, and gently holds an arm out for her. Molly smiles shyly and takes his arm as they walk across the grass and over to the large group, listening to the Priest speak in front of the casket. Mummy looks across at him, her face saddened, but she manages a small smile when she sees Molly on his arm. Molly gently unhooks his arm from hers and crosses her hands below her waist, listening and paying respect.</p><p>Sherlock looks over the tiny casket, another lump forming in his throat. "All this..she put all of them through all of this...no. No, I put them through all of this. If I had solved the Musgrave Ritual back then, maybe I would have had another, lively, free, redheaded, freckled friend in this world. I've lived my life, rude, and obnoxious, and hated by so many...and yet Victor is the one who didn't make it past six. Because of me. I did this to them." His mind tells him. He can feel tears beginning to well up in his eyes, a once extremely rare event, seemingly all too common these days. He just needed to control it. "Control it Sherlock..control...control..you aren't allowed to cry. You aren't allowed your emotions. YOU caused this!"</p><p>Standing close next to him, Molly looks over when she hears his breathing get heavier. His chest begins to rise and fall faster, and faster. She looks up at his face and notices the tears in his eyes, the slight perspiration on his brow, and his strain to keep it together. Molly looks him over and sees his hands trembling. She bites her lip and steps partially in front of him then very carefully takes his left hand in her right, hiding them behind her back. She squeezes gently, then strokes her thumb over his skin soothingly. Molly has seen clear signs of a panic attack, almost as many times as she has felt them herself. Despite everything that has transpired in the last few weeks, she knows he is hurting and she knows he needs someone in this moment. Anyone. Anyone. Even her. Mortification would come to him if he passed out during this. She couldn't let that happen. Not even to him. Not here, not now. It was too important. This was his childhood in front of him, dead. Nothing is more painful than a deceased child. Especially taking into account the circumstances.</p><p>Sherlock felt Molly's body shield his left side from the crowd as her smaller hand took his, applying a bit of pressure to ground him, and strokes of skin on skin to soothe him. He slowly felt the panic and the self-hatred melt away from him. In that moment, nothing mattered except the fact that she was grounding him yet again. She was an anchor of which he needed to cling to survive. He gently squeezed her hand back and glanced sideways at her, to hopefully let her know that he was alright, but that he still needed her there for the moment.</p><p>Sherlock slowed his breathing and attempted to clear his mind, focusing on the prayers and the beautiful, heartbreaking words of Lilly and Callum Trevor; whom finally, after twenty-eight soul crushing years of waiting, wondering, hoping, and unanswered questions, surrounded by love, are able to allow their missing little boy, Victor Trevor, to rest in peace.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Once the crowd had dispersed to their vehicles to head to the traditional Irish celebration of life reception, Molly turned to Sherlock. "Are you okay? I mean...I-I know you're not..I just..."</p><p>"I'm better now, thanks to you. Really, Molly. Thank You. I didn't expect that to be as difficult as it was and I'm still reeling from the fact that his death is partially my fault. He was a good friend..we were so young." Sherlock says sadly.</p><p>"I've seen many panic attacks, and I have had them as well. They aren't fun, and they feel horrible. I know it's nice to have someone there..to help the nerves."</p><p>John waltzes over after speaking with Benjamin Holmes. "Right then. Reception?"</p><p>Sherlock mutters something about remaining in the car so he won't have to fake conversations with "goldfish". John rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Seriously? This was your friend you just buried. The least you can do is attend the reception so his parents actually think you haven't grown up to be an utter cock."</p><p>Molly chimes in. "It's okay John, why don't you head to the pub. I can drive him. I think he just needs a moment or two." She nods and smiles slightly.</p><p>"Fine. Maybe you can get through his thick skull. God only knows I've tried multiple times and never can, but you have been successful a few times. Good luck with that, Molly." he exclaims as he heads to his car.</p><p>The moment John is out of sight, Sherlock stumbles to his knees and buries his hands in his face. He is humiliated to be feeling this in front of Molly, of all people, however, out of all people, he knows deep down that she would be the one to understand it the most too.</p><p>Molly gently kneels alongside him and hugs his side gently, the way she had when he had his first panic attack, that dreadful night in Bart's morgue when he told her he was going to die. Molly knew two things that night. One, Sherlock Holmes was definitely human, and two, seeing him broken in ways a man like him never was to that point, was absolutely heartbreaking and she wanted to prevent it or help at all costs.</p><p>"I know that it feels like the world is against you and on your shoulders. I know you have been through absolute hell and back, and I know that when hidden feelings erupt, they do just that. They erupt. Nobody can help it, not even you Sherlock Holmes. Despite your intellect, and your investigative prowess, you are a man. You are human. It's okay to feel sometimes. It's okay. You're not alone either. I see you. I've always seen you, and I'm here for you." Molly says soothingly, her heart splitting in two seeing the tears flow down his face. "Despite your inner monologue, despite what you think to be true, you didn't kill him Sherlock. You didn't. He didn't die because of you. You were a little boy too. Just a little boy. You didn't push him down that well. You didn't leave him there to perish. YOU loved your friend. You would never do that."</p><p>Sherlock's body trembles, wracked with quiet sobs, all his pain and anguish coming to a head in front of her. He wipes his face with his hands and closes his eyes, clear embarrassment written across his face. Molly continues softly "Eurus was a very sick, very unstable little girl. Not to mention her intelligence. That's why nobody saw the signs until she forced them to when she burned down your home. Nobody made her like that, sometimes things go wrong, people are born sicker than others. Her brain is like a virus. She is so smart, but she will never have the right connection that you do. The part of her that connects her brain to her heart, has a nasty virus that nobody can fix. That's not your fault, or your parent's, or even hers. It just is what it is."</p><p>Sherlock looks over at her, and takes a deep breath. "People died...I watched her kill them..I couldn't do anything. I was powerless."he swallows, "She didn't kill you, because her heart only allows room for her to care about one person...and by some glitch, that person is me. She wouldn't let me die either. She knew...ten seconds of eavesdropping when I was high and you had an ambulance, and she knew. How didn't I?"</p><p>"Know what, Sherlock?"</p><p>"How much you meant to me." He meets her gaze and looks into her eyes. "She boasted about it. Asked why she would be so clumsy to kill you. I assume she believed if she did, I would not want to save her from herself. I probably wouldn't have..I would've been too angry..too destroyed to even fathom helping her if she killed /you/."</p><p>Molly blushes slightly and stands up, helping Sherlock to his feet again, then brushing off her legs. "I believe you would have saved her from herself regardless. She's family. You still love her. I know you still would. You DO have a heart Sherlock. It's obvious."</p><p>He smiles softly but brokenly at her. "We had better get going. My parents will murder me if I don't properly show my face."</p><p>Molly giggles lightly, the thought of Sherlock Holmes still being afraid of his Mummy at thirty-four years old an entertaining notion. "Right, c'mon then." She smiles as they climb into her little buggy, Sherlocks legs scrunched up so much he is nearly in the fetal position. Molly laughs and adjusts the seat for him. Sherlock blushes a bit, but can't help but think to himself how lovely her laugh is, like soft chiming music in his ears, as they head down the road and towards the crowd yet again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Nothing Less Than An Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock gathers information about his new case while having a late night texting session with Molly</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A man walks up to an unidentified flat. There are multiple locks on the door including an electric security key pad. He punches the code in with ease and strides into a roomy, expensive, yet simple looking flat. He places a small camera bag and a black rifle bag onto the sofa and grabs a beer. He takes a swig and lets out a breath. "Now, let's see what we have from earlier today, shall we?" he snickers to himself. The figure unzips and places his rifle into its rightful place then returns and takes out his digital camera. He switches it on and looks over photos from that day. On the screen, Sherlock Holmes and Molly Hooper. Molly holding his hand behind her back, Molly comforting Sherlock during his second panic attack when they had been left alone. More and more shots of their intimacy, glowing on the screen. Seconds later the flat is filled with the maniacal laughter of yet another enemy, the sound resonating off the walls.</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>That Friday, three days after the entire panic attack fiasco, Sherlock was finally beginning to get back into the groove of things. That's when John brought up Lestrade's "case". Sherlock groaned, knowing this was going to lead nowhere. "It's nothing more than a two John! A TWO!"</p><p> </p><p>"Sherlock how the bloody hell would you know? You've glanced at the files a total of 20 seconds and that was days ago. You needed a case and you have one. So solve it. I am sure its not a two to the partners and families of the people who are still missing. What if it were..Mycroft?"</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock snorts and chuckles. "What if it were?"</p><p> </p><p>"Sherlock we both know you feel more for your big brother than you'll ever say. You would be devastated regardless and you would try. I know you."</p><p> </p><p>"Mhh..maybe. Mummy would make me." she smirks in response then sighs. "Fiiiine." He gets up from his chair and swiftly snatches the files off of the desk. He resumes his position in his leather chair and places the files on his lap. He begins reading through them one by one, his colorful eyes flicking over the pages and taking in details.</p><p> </p><p>The Lunch Lady, Marguerite Tomlin, was the first one to disappear, her colleagues had seen her approximately 15 minutes earlier, heading towards the employee bathroom.</p><p> </p><p>The male receptionist, Robert Hooley, was second, he disappeared after his shift and wasn't seen by friends and family after he was supposed to arrive home around 7:00pm.</p><p> </p><p>The male construction worker, Jack Lerner, was third, he had gone on break to grab a sandwich and a coffee from a local cafe. He never came back to finish his shift.</p><p> </p><p>The female doctor, Jacqueline Kellen, was fourth. She had been distraught over the death of a patient and decided to walk home instead of taking her usual cab route so she could get some fresh air. She calls her sister twice a day, and she has not heard from her at all.</p><p> </p><p>The female police officer, Paula Quinton, was the last to go missing. She had gone to her vehicle after her shift and her car was found abandoned approximately 25 minutes away from the police district she patrols, going the opposite way of her home.</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock hangs up the information pages on the wall and grabs a sharpie in case he needs it. He lets the information swirl around in his brain then gasps, going back over to the files. He grabs his computer and begins typing quickly, pulling up multiple tabs. "John...I regret to say this, but I think that you may have been right about this case. There IS a link. Why didn't I see it before!?"</p><p> </p><p>John looks at him, his brow creased and a small smile on his lips. "Wow you never tell me when I'm right. So what is it then? The link?"</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock lets out a breath. "It's not very good. I actually remember this doctor. She helped me out when I was overdosing. Doctor Kellen."</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, so? The link Sherlock, I don't have your intellect. Connect the dots."</p><p> </p><p>"Bart's"</p><p> </p><p>"Bart's? Like...Bart's, Bart's? The Hospital?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yes Bart's the Hospital John, do you know any other Bart? Look.." he turns his laptop and clicks through the tabs. "Each of the missing people worked on a different floor of Bart's Hospital. Cafeteria, Emergency Room, Third Floor West Wing, ICU, and the Officer was working a road detail near the parking garage."</p><p> </p><p>John raises an eyebrow. "Jesus..why Bart's though? I mean, they could have chosen any random person off the street or from any other business in the entirety of London but they chose St. Bart's Hospital. Why?"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't know...I don't like not knowing. There must be more information in these files to pluck out. It's getting late though. You should get Rosie home and down to bed. Tell her I will see her soon. Oh, and tell Mrs. Hudson that I prefer blueberry scones, instead of orange lemon ones tomorrow morning with me tea." He grins playfully. "Don't forget, it's important."</p><p> </p><p>John scoffs and rolls his eyes. "So you're eating now? That's good I suppose."</p><p> </p><p>"If I am going to start a case then I must eat so that I can conserve my energy before I delve into the heart of it. John, this has really turned around! It's nothing less than an eight now!"</p><p> </p><p>"Right, okay. Well I'll be around. I'm only working at the clinic on Monday and Thursday so you can let me know if you need any help with the case any other day this week."</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock nods absently, as he has already turned back to the files on his lap and is sifting through the rest of the correspondence between Scotland Yard and the families and friends of the missing.</p><p> </p><p>John heads downstairs to Mrs. Hudson's flat and goes in, smiling when he Rosie comes running to him. "Dada!!" she squeals happily, giggling. Her soft blond curls bounce with each step. John chuckles and scoops her up into his arms. "Princess Rosie!" he exclaims in a happy, childlike manner. He walks into the sitting room and grins at Mrs. Hudson who is collecting some of the toys that were strewn around the room. "Thanks again Mrs. Hudson. Rosie loves spending time with you. You are definitely a grandmother to her."</p><p> </p><p>Martha smiles and strokes Rosie's curls. "She is such a blessing John. Such a good girl, aren't you Rosiegirl?" Rosie giggles and nods adorably. "Ya!"</p><p> </p><p>John kisses Rosies cheek. "Sherlock wanted me to tell you that he would rather you bring him a blueberry scone tomorrow morning instead of the orange lemons ones you've had recently. He is such a baby."</p><p> </p><p>"That man is going to drive me mad one of these days. But what can I do? He is a son to me, so are you John. Therefore, I will have to make do." she smirks teasingly. "You two have a good night and sleep well, okay? I assume Sherlock will be dragging you along on a case soon."</p><p> </p><p>"Yes, we will certainly try. I will sleep if Miss Rosie here does, at least. The case may be a big one Mrs. H. Unfortunately Molly has been very busy at the lab these days. She took on a teaching seminar for incoming pathologists, so if you don't mind I will have to use your babysitting services a bit more often for the time being."</p><p> </p><p>"It's not a problem John as long as you text me notice. I do have hot dates you know."</p><p> </p><p>John clears his throat. "Right...goodnight then."</p><p> </p><p>"Goodnight you two." she kisses Rosie's temple and watches as they leave Baker Street.</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock paces around the flat through the night, breaking to play violin to help his mind think, then diving back into the files. He doesn't find anything else within them that would connect the individuals together. He grumbles and rubs his face. "No leads, no leads!" he slam the files back down on the desk and sighs. "Why would someone choose to kidnap five people from the same location, with no link other than that? WHY!?" he scratches his head in annoyance.</p><p> </p><p>He slumps into his chair, feeling a bit sleepy, which was odd for him. Reaching for his cell phone,his thumb swipes to social media that John and Lestrade forced him to get. Aimlessly scrolling through Instagram, he comes to a photo that was posted by Molly hours ago. She is curled up in her pajamas on her sofa with a mystery novel, a cuppa, and her kitten Toby. His eyes look over the photo a few times. Sherlock is definitely unsure why that random photo would catch his eye but there is just something so soothing, simple, and "Molly" about it.</p><p> </p><p>It was just one simple cellular photograph and it managed to calm his mind to a more functional level, like a rush of endorphins into his system. As if on autopilot, he moved to his texts and clicks on her name. He lets the cursor flash dozens of times, knowing she probably isn't awake this early in the morning, but also needing stimulation, even if it is "small talk".</p><p> </p><p>{I know you are probably asleep, but I have been working on a case and I feel as if I am losing my touch. Bit frustrated you could say. Anyway, I'm just blowing off some steam. You can ignore this. -SH.} He places his phone on the armrest and slumps down, leaning his head back on his chair and steepling his hands under his chin in classic fashion. Time goes by as if it is the slowest form of existence in the world, until he hear a familiar vibration. Piqued with interest, he picks up his cell yet again and sees an unread message from Molly. His heart beats just a bit faster and he furrows his brow, the feeling of it somewhat without cause.</p><p> </p><p>{Can't seem to sleep either. I assure you, you are not losing your touch. You have just been through more than a lot recently. It's normal after trauma and stress, you'll be alright Sherlock. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{I just feel...well..that's the problem, Molly. I /feel/. It's unsettling. How do normal people handle this? It's annoying. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>Molly giggles lightly from her bed. She replies: {You've always /felt/ silly. It just hasn't been brought out as much as it has recently. Believe me, I know it can be annoying. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock feels a bit guilty, realizing she was most likely referring to her feelings for him all those years that they were barely acknowledged, nevermind reciprocated. {I am sorry again for that. You deserved better Molly. You always have. I did mean it when I told you that I hoped you would be very happy. I still do. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>Molly feels the all too familiar sadness fill her chest again. {You know I forgive you...I most likely always will. I care about you, always have, always will. I tried to be happy, but Tom didn't really make me happy. Don't get me wrong, he was a lovely person, and he was sweet, but I wasn't in love with him. I couldn't live with a lie like that. Sometimes I wonder if I am just cut out to be alone forever with a cat. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock's guilt grows more in the core of his being. {I don't believe that Molly. You will be happy. You will have everything you want out of life. It will come to you, because out of all the irritating humans I have been in contact with, you by far deserve that happiness the most. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>Molly reads what he wrote and tears form in her eyes, blurring the screen through her watery vision. {I don't know at this point Sherlock..I really don't. Im thirty-two, nearly thirty-three years old. The friends I do have are all happily dating, or married, or with children, or a combination of those three. I have no one...I'm always left with no one..always.. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock swallows the tightness in his throat. {If you need anything...anything at all..you can have me. I know I am not the ideal friend Molly. I know I have hurt you. But, you do. Have me, that is. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>Molly dabs at her eyes, seeing how he remembered the words she had worked so hard to get out all those years ago, to let him know he could fall back on her. {Oh, Sherlock. That is sweet, and I notice you remembered. However, I don't think you could help me out with either of the three things I listed unfortunately. I appreciate your vulnerability to express this though. Thank You. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>He frowns and can feel a tear slowly drawing an iridescent path down his pale cheek. {No, I suppose not.} He types out "I love you though" at the end of the message but quickly erases it, sending the message as it stands.</p><p> </p><p>{I'm not exactly a ten in any man's eyes. I have more flaws than any other woman in the world it seems. On a good day, it seems maybe I can pull off a six, but thats rare. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Don't be ridiculous Molly. Not even strictly speaking on physical attributes, you are a ten. Maybe a nine for the simple fact that you doubt your perfection. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{Sherlock that's just not true. Maybe a seven? xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Mhh..nothing less than an eight. You do have a slightly crazy affinity for the color pink, and furry felines. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>She smiles genuinely and tosses her tissue into her bedside bucket. {If you insist. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Of course I insist. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{FYI, I don't think you are anything less than an eight either. Taking into account everything that I know about you. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock feels his cheeks heat up. {Oh..erm..thank you Molly. However, nobody in this world would agree with you. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{Some people. Maybe. On certain good days 😂 xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Well maybe in Lestrade's eyes. I /do/ solve all of his cases more or less. -SH} he chuckles softly to himself.</p><p> </p><p>{That's true. I'm on a day off tomorrow, so if you need anything at the lab or the morgue, you'll have to go through Cowan. Sorry xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Nooooo. He won't work with me Molly! -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{Sherlock, it is one day. I am sure you can handle it. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{😔 -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{Oh don't get all pouty with me. You have other aspects of the case to work on I am sure. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{I suppose. What are you doing tomorrow? -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{Well...nothing really. But that was in fact, the point. Why? xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{I was wondering if you'd like to have dinner? -SH}</p><p> </p><p>Molly gapes and stares at the screen for what seems like ages.</p><p> </p><p>{Molly..? Did I say something wrong?? Come back. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{No..no you didn't say anything wrong. I mean...I suppose we could have dinner. What exactly did you have in mind..? xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Angelo's? Unless you prefer that fancy French place that Mary liked...anything really. Even pizza if you'd like? -SH}</p><p> </p><p>Molly scoffed confusingly. {Umm...anything is fine really. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Molly, I asked you. What do you like to eat other than Bart's cafeteria food?? -SH}</p><p> </p><p>She snorts and rolls her eyes. She would rather skip the embarrassment of seeing Angelo, since he is convinced that everyone Sherlock goes there with is his partner. "God..dinner..I don't know what his intentions even are. Friendly I assume." she mutters to herself. {Um maybe just that nice little pub in Brixton where your birthday party was. The food was good. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Great. I'll pick you up around 7:00. Be ready. We'll take a cab. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{Okay... xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{You're confused...aren't you...? -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{Well to be honest, quite. You're you. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Yes...but I did tell you that I reciprocated some feelings for you. This is a way to test the waters so I can figure out what to do with that information. I want to though. You're not an experiment. I would still enjoy your presence and dinner with you regardless of the outcome. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>"The outcome??" she murmurs. "What possible outcome could there be..geez." {Alright. I will see you then. You should probably at least try to get some sleep, even if its a couple hours. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock smirks, knowing he shouldn't taunt her, but he can't help himself. {Why? Do I need more energy for something? -SH}</p><p> </p><p>Molly is convinced her face turned into a complete tomato. {No...but I'd rather you not fall asleep face first into your Shepherd's Pie again. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Okay, that was /once/! AND John got me smackered. Plus, it was my birthday, you aren't allowed to bring that up! Also, I'm impressed that you remembered my order, Molly. Great observations skills.-SH}</p><p> </p><p>Grinning to herself, she stretches out her fingers and types {You don't eat too much so it's easy to know your taste. Plus, I don't think I could ever forget that. I was on your side! Greg kept taking pictures of you with all the potatoes in your hair and he put carrots over your eyes. I told him it was cruel. John was laughing so hard he couldn't even breathe nevermind stop him. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Ughh. It won't happen tomorrow, I assure you. I will try to sleep a bit. Scouts honor. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{You say that as if you were actually a Scout. LOL. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock bites his lip, his mind wandering back to when mummy would proudly pin the accomplishment badges onto his little sash until he had used up every possible inch of space. He was accelerated child. {Yes well..figure of speech. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{OMG you were, weren't you!? I HAVE to get your mum to show me a photo of THAT. You know I can too! xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Molly no! -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{Oh don't be shy, I'm sure you were at the top of your den, huh? xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Well I don't mean to brag but...of course I was. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{I cannot wait to see photo of you as a little kid all proud with your sash. 😊🤣🥰 xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Mollyyyyy. You show ANYONE and I swear... -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{You swear what? What'll you do hm? xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{I'll..I'll go through your flat and find one of you to show people too. So there. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{Uh huh. Go ahead. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Ugh, you are impossible. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>{Yes, and that is why you'd like dinner with me, isn't it? 😏 xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{Go to bed Molly. -SH}</p><p> </p><p>She laughs, realizing she had just won a conversation with Sherlock Holmes. He was rendered speechless, by her. {Goodnight Sherlock. Sweet dreams. xxMolly}</p><p> </p><p>{You as well. 🌙 -SH}</p><p> </p><p>She smiles to herself and plugs her phone back into it's charger. She never thought she would see the day Sherlock bothered to use an emoji, nevermind ask her to dinner! Oh, tomorrow was going to be an absolute adventure. Her thoughts drift to Mary, finding herself missing her friend now more than ever when she could've used her teasing and advice. Her nerves and adrenaline were already raging inside her body, as she attempted to slip into a sweet slumber.</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock strides into his bedroom and plugs his phone in, stripping down to his briefs and curling up in a cocoon of sheets. The case can wait, he has a brand new and more exciting one to explore. Oh, tomorrow was going to be quite the adventure.</p><p> </p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p>"Is it done, Lionel?" the man's voice rings out, addressing the company who had paid a visit early to avoid being seen.</p><p> </p><p>"Yessir. It's working like a charm. All I had to do was alter the power mechanism to include a teeny tiny feedback chip which will pull the information from the mobiles and onto this spreadsheet right here. Every time they plug in, the info will get pulled. Genius, ain't it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Mhh...very very good Lionel. I assume it wasn't too difficult to get into the flat's eh?"</p><p> </p><p>"Not at all sir. It just takes knowledge of the right time, and the art of disguise. I followed his schedule for weeks as you suggested, her's was too easy. It's down to a science. Placing the bugs took about ten minutes each. One of the simplest jobs I've had, sir. Aside from when we successfully framed your brother for the entire terrorist plot. That was a fun one though, eh?"</p><p> </p><p>Deep chuckles emanate from the stationary form on the sofa. "That was one of the best days of my life. Even though the plot didn't work, I got him out of the way and rigged everyone against him, convincing them he was me. I learned so much from my boss...my Jimmy. He was the best man you could've known. Jubilant, comical, enticingly genius, completely sexy...THIS is why Holmes must be taken down. THIS is why this plan must not fail like the last one. I will burn his heart out if it kills me. I have nothing left to lose. Not a thing."</p><p> </p><p>"What about your son, sir..?"</p><p> </p><p>He scoffs. "My toddler son is more comfortable in the hands of nannies. However, if I do live to see him grow older, I will ensure he will be a great sharpshooter like me, his ol' Dad, and an incredible manipulator like his Father. Even if I'm long gone, six feet under, I have insurance and men who will take care of his education. He will be raised in this empire, now that his mother is rather engaged as worm food. The world will move on until the reign of Jaime Moriarty. He will be a great heir, don't you think?"</p><p> </p><p>"Absolutely, sir. A great heir."</p><p> </p><p>"This plan must go off without a hitch. Is that clear? One minor setback and I will have your head in my left hand and your body in my right. Got it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Y-Yes sir..Understood sir."</p><p> </p><p>"Good. Oh, I can taste the very salt from his tears on her grave already. It's so close, Lionel. I can barely contain myself."</p><p> </p><p>"When are we putting it in motion sir?"</p><p> </p><p>"When the time is perfect. Not a second sooner, nor a second later. I'll know."</p><p> </p><p>The man grabs the tablet from his hand and reads Sherlock and Molly's texts, getting the info from the bugs in their phone chargers. He roars in laughter.</p><p> </p><p>"Ohh..this is good. This is soooo good. Juicy even. Delicious. I'm going to get him at *juuuust* the right sweet spot. He's performing very well and to schedule. Ahh..sweet perfection. THIS is why matters of the heart are dangerous, Lionel. Most people, they shy away from danger, they despise it. But Jimmy...the thrill, the danger, the pain. Those were the best times there ever were and ever could be. He showed me the world through the singular most rare lens in existence. Thrill, danger, pain..even murder, if only for the slight adrenaline rush. He was a bit of a junkie in that way, and I was his eager little bitch. I did love it though. I swore to avenge him, and it's finally, nearly time."</p><p> </p><p>Lionel collects is things and nods. "Shall we expect you back at Moriarty Manor anytime soon?"</p><p> </p><p>"Soon. I will need to go over the logistics again with the team, and make sure that the doctor has the syringes ready. You have the equipment ready correct?"</p><p> </p><p>"Yessir. We are set to go on your word. Everything is working perfectly, in precise condition."</p><p> </p><p>"Hmm good. I may like a more personal touch though. I haven't made up my mind yet. I want to illicit the most primal desires of Mr. Holmes and exploit them until he is an empty mass of carcass who has to live in misery, LIKE ME!!" He screams.</p><p> </p><p>Lionel smirks. "You're incredible, sir."</p><p> </p><p>"I know that. Flattery doesn't get you any points, unless you want to join me in bed. And if that's the case, your mouth could be used for much more useful things, Lionel."</p><p> </p><p>"Yessir. I'll meet you back at the manor for the briefing tomorrow, sir."</p><p> </p><p>The figure goes over and grabs the slightly shorter man by the back of the neck, pulling him close to his mouth. He growls and gives the man a bruising kiss, nipping his lip to draw a bit of blood, before pulling back and licking the droplet off his own lips. "Loosen the fuck up Lionel, you're not being much fun. They don't call me The Tiger for nothing."</p><p> </p><p>Lionel clears his throat and smirks. "I knew what I was getting myself into, sir. I will meet with you tomorrow. For the briefing, then maybe for some fun."</p><p> </p><p>The man grins devilishly. "I could use a bit of stress relief. It's a date. Now leave."</p><p> </p><p>The shorter man nods sharply and quickly exits the flat. The Tiger settles into the sofa once again, laughing evilly, rereading the private texts between Mr. William Sherlock Scott Holmes and Miss Margaret Louise Hooper, unbeknownst to the parties themselves.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Tainted Innocence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock tries to figure out his emotions for Molly over dinner, however, Molly reveals her very traumatic youth to Sherlock.</p><p>***TRIGGER WARNING- Talk about abuse, rape, miscarriage, war, and death***</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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</p><p>Sherlock woke with a groan as the glaring sun hit his eyes. Today of all days, it was sunny, when he could do with some more sleep. He stumbles out of bed in classic fashion, wrapped in his sheet. Making his way into the living room, he smirks to himself when he sees the tea and the blueberry scones set out for him by his lovely hous- er...landlady. He flops down into his chair and begins munching. He secretly loved all of Mrs. Hudson's baked goods and really could eat them at any time, not that he would reveal that to anyone. He takes a sip of his tea, which of course is perfectly prepared by Mrs. Hudson. His eyes wander to the stack of files on his desk, piled high with a few papers hanging out of them. Quickly scarfing down the rest of his scone, he grabs them off the desk and onto his lap.</p><p>He swiftly speed reads through the information once again to refresh his mind. All the victims disappeared when they were in a moment of vulnerability and when they were alone. All of them work at St. Bartholomew's Hospital, all of them had varying family and friend circles that they confided in, and all of them were in the same age range. Sherlock realizes that someone has kidnapped them, obvious, since five people do not just randomly disappear from the same place without a common agenda. The agenda of an external source most likely, but an agenda, nonetheless. There is seemingly nothing special or important about these individuals, so why would someone want /them/? The last time seemingly random people went missing, it was Moriarty, and they all turned up dead somewhere. These bodies have not turned up anywhere if they are in fact dead. Plus, it couldn't be Moriarty. Everyone knows for an absolute fact that he IS dead. Most criminals that want to contact Sherlock will taunt or tease, or generally show their face as a challenge, but not a soul has come forward yet. "Why?" he thinks, not used to being confused by intentions of a case. Sherlocks spends the remainder of the day looking through the files, speaking with Lestrade and even, he cringes, calling a few of the contacts of those who have gone missing.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Molly flips through the channels on her telly, she is laying on her couch and gently stroking Toby's fur as he purrs softly next to her. Her long brown locks are pulled into a messy bun atop her head, she is wearing her favorite sweatpants, and donning her dad's ratty old t-shirt that could honestly be used as a nightgown as well, since it hits her knees. Sighing, she turns the TV off when she cannot find anything interesting enough to watch. Her nerves begin to buzz within her yet again, a stark reminder that she has an actual /date/ with Sherlock tonight. Maybe. She wasn't exactly sure what it was. Hell, she didn't even know if Sherlock knew what it was. Regardless, she was determined to make sure it was not a flop. If that happened, she wasn't sure if they'd ever come back from that, and if their friendship would be stained forever.</p><p>Sitting up, she grabs her phone and composes a text to him, making sure she did not hallucinate that entire conversation. JUST to be 100% sure.</p><p>{Hello Sherlock. Are we still on for tonight? I hope I didn't dream that! xx Molly} she bites her lip then smiles unconsciously when she sees the chat bubbles dance on the bottom of her screen.</p><p>{Of course we are. 7:00. Cab. Your place. I'll be there. Oh...am I usually in your dreams? SH}</p><p>Molly flushes pink and rolls her eyes. {Don't go getting cheeky Mr. Holmes. You're still on thin ice. xx Molly}</p><p>{Oh alright, alright. I just want to say...as I'm sure you know...well...um... I'm not very good at this. This area of...being human. -SH}</p><p>She grins to herself. {There's no pressure Sherlock. It's just me. I'm sure it'll be a nice time. Don't go panicking for no reason. xx Molly}</p><p>Sherlock takes a breath. "Feelings...ugh, this is getting absolutely ridiculous. There's no reason to feel like this." he grumbles to himself. {Right, I know that. Panicking? I'm not panicking. When have I been known to panic? -SH}</p><p>{Like, always Sherlock. You always panic. However, you panic in multiple different ways. xx Molly}</p><p>"How does she know so much about me? It's incredible. It's not like I openly tell her these things. Too messy. Feelings are too messy. Caring isn't an advantage." his thoughts battle for control over his being. {I'll see you tonight. -SH} he types out, abruptly ending the conversation.</p><p>Molly chews her bottom lip, wondering if he is having second thoughts. "What if he was just stressed and didn't really mean to ask and is totally regretting it? What if he doesn't want to anymore and is forcing himself because he still feels bad for what he did before." she thinks.</p><p>{Sherlock, if you are having second thoughts, you're allowed to change your mind... xx Molly}</p><p>Sherlock stares down at the message. He's angry at himself for feeling this deeply. Pissed for wanting to go through with it. Upset because he doesn't know if he CAN. Reality is rarely as good as expectation. {OK, let's cancel. -SH}</p><p>Tears stinging her eyes, Molly resumes her place on the sofa, becoming completely numb. {OK xx Molly} She can feel the stream of tears dropping off her face and onto her lap, and the unbearable lump of disappointment and hurt in her throat. She isn't exactly sure what she expected, but she did it to herself. Just like always. She always ruins good things. She always ruins her own happiness. She's self- destructive. Tucking her legs under her, she leans her head on her arms which are sprawled onto the sofa arm. Unable to hold it in anymore, she begins to sob, burying her face into the crook in her arms. A feeling of utter foolishness and hopelessness takes over her, her sadness coming out in waves of tears and rippled breathing. She wished Mary was here, she missed having her best friend to confide in.</p><p>Sherlock walks over to the wall on which is pinned the most important information of the case. Instead of immediately being able to concentrate, he finds himself blinking back tears. He was reliably informed many years ago that he didn't have a heart, and even if he did, it was very small and useless. But right now, standing in the middle of his flat, unable to piece information together, Sherlock Holmes was reduced to a mass of unearthed emotion and he could swear whatever heart he did have was completely split in two. He finds himself stumbling over to the wall and leaning against it as if it were a life support. But he did it to himself. He ruins everything good. Everything that brings him a modicum of happiness. He's self-destructive. He wished Mary was here. She would know how to straighten him out, he could always confide in her bluntness.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Molly stirs, realizing she has a cramp in her neck. She groans and sits up, recognizing her pale pink sofa. Rubbing her face, the reason as to why she had fallen asleep slowly seeps back into her mind. She sighs sadly and rubs her sore neck. After a moment, a flash of red catches her eye. She looks towards it and sees none other than Mary Watson, standing right in front of her! Donned in her favorite red top, jeans, and her converse. Molly blinks multiple times and rubs her eyes, but she remains. "M-Mary...Mary??"</p><p>Mary smiles beautifully. "Moll...oh, this was just too much of a mess not to meddle in."</p><p>"But...you’re..."</p><p>"Dead? Yeah, I know, small detail though." Mary giggles softly.</p><p>Molly stares at her, speechless as Mary sits next to her. "C'mon Moll, you look like you've seen a ghost!"</p><p>Molly scoffs playfully. "Well...yeah, because I am seeing one."</p><p>"Yeah, yeah, as I said, minor detail. Don't be too concerned. I'm not really here...you know that. I'm in your head. Oh, I should mention, by the way, you are still asleep. Welcome to the ghostly plane, my dear."</p><p>Molly smiles softly, but worriedly. "I... I miss you so much. I miss our talks and your advice..." she leans over and gives her best friend a giant hug.</p><p>Mary grins and hugs her back. "That's why I'm here Moll. You need my advice. Pretty badly I can tell. Wow, you two really do make a huge mess of common sense, don't you?"</p><p>"Us two?"</p><p>"You and Sherlock. Oh, I'm sure it's his fault the bloody baby. It always is. I just find it hilarious that neither of you see what is so obvious and yet you are two of the most intelligent people I had ever known."</p><p>"See what, Mary? There's really nothing to see. Just that fact that I'm a fool, and believe me, I see it"</p><p>"No, no don’t be crazy. I'm talking about how he is totally and completely in love with you, and you are with him and you are both completely and utterly terrified of it."</p><p>"Wh-what? He's not...no. He is not in love with me. Mary he's SHERLOCK."</p><p>"Hence the terror." she replies and laughs.</p><p>"You two are like the same person. It's ridiculous. You push away the person you want because you both totally second guess yourselves. It does none of you any good, and honestly it just wastes time. Let's be honest, you two were absolutely made for each other. I think you are the only woman in the world who could reign in a giant man-child like him, and he is the only man that thinks a woman who cuts and digs through dead bodies for a living is the sexiest thing on the planet. You two belong together Moll."</p><p>Molly blushes deeply. "I-...I don't know how to respond to that...I mean...Sherlock Holmes does NOT think I'm sexy. I hardly think that word is even in his vocabulary, Mary. He's HIM."</p><p>Mary laughs so hard that she snorts. Oh, how Molly has missed her humor and her air of giddiness. "Moll...you haven't seen the way he looks at you. Especially when you aren't looking. It's so obvious."</p><p>Molly chews her bottom lip out of habit. "He...looks at me?"</p><p>"All the time. As much as you look at him. He's crazy about you. It's only a matter of time until he realizes it. But you must have the guts to MAKE him realize it. Other people, like my adorably ignorant husband may not realize this, but Molly you are so much stronger than Sherlock. Especially emotionally. You have to take the reins on this one. If you don’t, he is going to mope around like Rosie during a tantrum and be miserable for months. Make him take you out. Make him talk to you and make him listen to you." she smiles gorgeously.</p><p>"He doesn't want to go though...he cancelled Mary. I can't just show up unwanted."</p><p>"Firstly, of course he wants to. He just doesn't want to mess up and hurt you again. What he doesn't know is that he did by cancelling. But I assure you, this kills him as much as it killed you. I would know. I check up on occasion." she smirks gently. "Secondly, why can't you just show up at his flat? Dazzle him. Put on the sexiest outfit you own, go there, and make him WANT to reverse the cancellation. You'll stun him. A stunned Sherlock is incredibly flexible, believe me."</p><p>Molly takes a deep breath. "I don't know if I have the strength or even the courage to, Mary."</p><p>"You do Molly. I know you do, and believe me, it'll be worth it. Now, not everything will be easy, of course it won't. We are talking about Sherlock and being close with him. But I promise you, if you can find it in yourself to stick it out through all the mess and the emotion and the rocky parts, you'll come out on top."</p><p>Molly squints her eyes, accusingly. "What do you know, Mary Watson?"</p><p>"Oh, we both know I can't tell you that. You've got to live it. Just know that...you'll find happiness Molly. Stick with the bastard." Mary chuckles.</p><p>Molly nods slowly. "Will I ever see you again...?"</p><p>Mary smiles sadly and longingly. "I'll always watch over you all. I'll be here in times of crisis. I'm in your head, Moll. It's up to you when you see me." she gently rubs Molly's back.</p><p>"Be strong Doctor Hooper, I know you have it in you."</p><p>Molly goes to reply but she notices Mary fading away. "Mary? Mary no, wait! Mary!" she sniffles softly, the presence of her friend gone.</p><p>Suddenly she feels herself stir, and realizes she has a cramp in her neck. She groans and sits up, recognizing her pale pink sofa as she had before. Rubbing her face, the memory of her conversation with Mary comes into her mind. She smiles sadly and rubs her sore neck, the image of her friend nowhere to be found. "Thanks, Mary" she says out loud.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>"Sherlock!? Sherlock?? Oh, dear...oh dear..." Sherlock heard a worried yell above him and moans, feeling the hard surface of the ground beneath him. He turns and leans on it to sit himself up and sees Mrs. Hudson flustered and wracked with worry, standing over him. "Dear God, I thought you were dead!" she exclaims and gently smacks his head. "Why are you on the bloody floor?"</p><p>Sherlock looks around, still a bit disoriented. "Mary..." he mumbles.</p><p>"Mary? Dear boy, she's dead..." Martha says softly.</p><p>"No, I know that." Sherlock groans and stands himself out. "Oh, erm, thanks for breakfast, it was delicious by the way."</p><p>She furrows her brow and feels his forehead. "Are you coming down with something?"</p><p>"He rolls his eyes and removes her hand. "No, I was just trying to be nice. Shall I not try that again?"</p><p>She laughs. "I don't exactly know what has come over you, but thank Mary for me, I suppose."</p><p>Sherlock smirks as she exits the flat. "Thank You, Mary." he says out loud. He scoops up his violin and begins to play Mary and John's wedding waltz.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Molly smiles at her appearance in the mirror. She thinks it is a perfect outfit. Casual enough for the pub, cute enough for modesty, sexy enough with the red lipstick she paired it with. She chose a fitted short sleeve cream top with little black bows on it, paired with her high waisted black skirt that goes to the top of her knees. She then slips on her red flats to match her lipstick. "No need to go tripping all over the place today" she mutters to herself. Looking, back at the mirror, she feels proud of how her makeup skills have improved since she had been putting in the effort for a month or so. Her mascara and eyeliner are just noticeable to bring out the sparkle in her brown eyes, her blush is light enough, since her pale skin gives away natural blush easily, and the lipstick..well, let's just say Mary picked out the brighter red as a dare one day, and it worked for her complexion. She had just lightly waved the ends of her hair and brushed it out. Sighing with nervousness, she grabs her purse and car keys and heads to 221B Baker Street.</p><p>
  
</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Sherlock walks over to the window, completely bored out of his mind, about to shoot up the wall again. He hums to himself as he moved the curtain of the way and watches London traffic go by. All these people with all these normal, regular, boring lives. "Or maybe, is it mine that's boring..." he mumbles, the quiet of his flat panging against his eardrums. As he turns to pace around the flat again, a flash of yellow moves across his vision. He quickly looks back and sees Molly's bright little Buggy pull up in front of 221B. He furrows his brow, but panic set in within him. Moving away from the window, the thought to hide somewhere crosses his mind, but he dismisses it as ridiculous. He's Sherlock Holmes for Christ's sake!</p><p>Suddenly the all too familiar knock comes at the door. Frozen in place, he blinks at it, as if the door will somehow open itself, or protect him from the petite woman on the other end. Another knock. Shit.</p><p>Sherlock quickly clears his throat and attempts to compose himself, opening the outdated, chipped door marked 221B. Standing in front of him is a determined, confident looking Doctor Molly Hooper. He looks down at her, puzzled. Clearly seeing the confusion on his face, Molly giggles softly. "Can I come in?"</p><p>He stands there blinking, before his eyes flitter across her face and body. She can feel her cheeks heat up a bit. "Uh...youinnow" his words slur together. He clears his throat and lets his mind catch up to his voice. "Yes, you can come in now." She smiles softly and walks into the scruffy flat.</p><p>"So, I know that we cancelled for tonight, but I was hoping that maybe...maybe you still had a bit of time to grab a bite? Casually?" Molly asked softly, noticing that he was in sweats, a dingy tee and his glorious burgundy dressing gown, which almost looks like a cape when he wears it.</p><p>"Oh...ummmm..."</p><p>"It's no rush. I can wait for you to dress or whatever. I don't mind" she gives him a radiant smile.</p><p>"God, she's absolutely glowing...and her lips look absolutely perfect with the lipstick...her sweater perfectly hugs her body and--" Sherlock shakes his head, taking himself out of his thoughts.</p><p>"Oh...i-i'ts okay if you don't want-"</p><p>"No, no! I- I wasn't shaking my head no, I was just thinking of something else...apologies. Yes, I will go and put on some proper clothes. Just a moment"</p><p>She giggles softly. "Alright, I'll just wait here then."</p><p>Sherlock rushes to his bedroom, which is in a bit of disarray from when he tossed and turned the previous night. Blankets and pillows are spilling over his bed and his hamper is nearly full. He groans to himself and goes through his drawers hoping against all hope that he has something decent to put on. Maybe a little better than decent if he wants to impress Molly. "Impress her?" he thinks, as he digs through one last row of shirts. He smirks a bit, finding his smaller purple button up at the bottom of the row, knowing it's Molly's favorite. After all, Mary must have suggested it for a reason in his "dream?".</p><p>Grabbing some black slacks, he quickly replaces his sweats with them then strips his tee off of his top half. His pale, lean body is well kept, in contrast to his emotional state. He slips the purple shirt onto his arms and looks in the full-length mirror on the opposite side of his bedroom. Noticing the small scar left by Mary's bullet, he smiles fondly. Despite everyone thinking he is one of the toughest people in London, Sherlock remembers how utterly scared he is of dying. He shudders at the memories of the multiple hospital rooms he has been in and slowly buttons up the shirt. Sherlock grabs some black socks from his sock drawer and slips them on before his usual black dress shoes. He always found them the comfiest, even more so than sneakers. Going back to the mirror, he runs his hands through his curls a few times, then ruffles them to fluff it a bit.</p><p>His hands run over a small drawer within his night table. Opening it slowly, a small clear vial sits there in a nice case. Mycroft had gotten him his favorite cologne as a Christmas gift a few years ago. Of course, Sherlock would never admit how much he liked it, but it was expensive, and he could rarely afford it. He picks it up and dabs a bit on his neck then replaces it. A small green box lay beside the blue cologne case. Molly's Christmas gift that he had rudely ignored that fateful Christmas Eve. He picks it up tenderly and opens it to reveal the chunky lapel pin that she had gifted him. At the time it seemed silly, but looking at it now, she really does know him better than everyone else. The pin is an anatomical brain and an anatomical heart joined together. Sherlock supposes it's a reminder that he can be both brilliant and caring. He smiles and takes it out of the box, attaching it to his left lapel proudly. </p><p>
  
</p><p>Sherlock strides out of his bedroom, back into the sitting room. Molly is sitting on the edge of John's old chair, as if she is somehow tainting it. "It's okay to sit back you know, it won’t swallow you whole" he chuckles.</p><p>Molly looks over and stands up, taking in the breathtaking sight of all that is William Sherlock Scott Holmes. "Tall, lean, sexy hair, perfect jawline, God that fucking purple shirt...he totally did that on purpose. Is that my lapel pin??" Molly thinks as she looks over him. "That's a nice look" she says softly to him, scolding herself on the inside. "God Molly, that's all you could muster? He clearly put in effort for you for some reason."</p><p>"Thank You" he replies awkwardly. Molly has never seen Sherlock look so out of place and so...unknowing.</p><p>"Are you ready to go? We can take a cab if you want. I know my little car is a bit smushed for you" she giggles.</p><p>Sherlock's face lights up a little. "Yeah, cab may be best. I don't do too well in tiny spaces." He advances to the coat rack and picks up THE coat. His acclaimed Belstaff.</p><p>Molly thinks of all the times she has dreamed or daydreamed of him hugging her or, God forbid, even kissing her, and pulling her smaller frame into the coat with him. She feels her face warming up and quickly looks at his skull to distract herself. "Problem, Molly?"</p><p>"Hm? Oh, no. It's just, a bit warm for a coat, isn't it?"</p><p>Shrugging, he slips it onto his shoulders anyway. "It's usually odd to have an affinity for objects, but somehow I feel more like myself in my coat."</p><p>She grins and nods. "Honestly, yeah it's a bit hard picturing you leaving your flat without it."</p><p>Sherlock chuckles and opens the door for her to walk through. Moments later, he is hailing a cab like an absolute pro. He's like a total magnet for them.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>After approaching the hostess, they are seated in a nice, but small and personal corner booth. Sherlock looks around as if taking in the personal history and characteristics of everyone seated there, too nervous to even look her way, never mind knowing what to say to her. Molly chews her bottom lip and watches him. There is something very calming about watching his beautiful eyes dance with the influx of information as he processes things around him. She nearly gets lost in his eyes, until she realizes that they are looking directly as her.</p><p>She turns red and blinks "I-I'm sorry."</p><p>"Don't be...your eyes are very calming, Molly. Like hot cocoa."</p><p>Her lips form a smile. "I was thinking that about yours, except yours are...very colorful and very beautiful. Tantalizing and... I don’t know. There's just something extremely enticing and so intelligent about them. But they also look like a storm in the middle of the summer...the cool blue-green ocean with bits of the yellow-gold sand...just...like, someone could just swim in them for hours and-..." She blushes. "Sorry...I’ll...stop ranting now."</p><p>Sherlock half-smiles cutely, but a little shyly, not very sure what to do with a compliment that big. "Thank You."</p><p>"You're Welcome." She motions to the menu. "So, Shepherd's Pie?" she questions him, chuckling.</p><p>"Ugh I swear, I will never live that one down, will I?"</p><p>"Nope, never" Molly giggles.</p><p>He chuckles and rolls his eyes, fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt.</p><p>The waiter comes over and they order drinks and an appetizer to share.</p><p>"So..Molly Hooper. I always pride myself on knowing all about a person before they even know that I know. However, with you, that has always presented a challenge. Why, I've not a clue. Maybe you can enlighten me."</p><p>Molly raises an eyebrow gently. "Honestly, I don't know either Sherlock. It always sort of seemed like you knew exactly everything you needed to know about me at the time."</p><p>"Well, the little things yes. A change in appearance, a fluctuation in weight, sometimes stress level and the fact that you bite off more than you can chew at work..but all the other things, well, they remain a blank. It's almost like I knew nothing about you at all. I know that you're a hard worker, that you have your own home, you love cats, your favorite color is pink, you prefer to dress modestly, and you love chocolate caramel ripple ice cream. I also know that you're one of the best, most solid, supportive friends I will ever have." He looks into her eyes.</p><p>Molly blushes a bit and nods. "All of that may be true...but I built myself up to where I am. I've been through a lot of terrible things and somehow, I achieved success despite everything. Believe me, you don't want to know. It's not a happy story, Sherlock. My past is...not something I like telling people about. It's painful and… and… traumatic."</p><p>"I guess we have a bit more in common than anyone would think then. You know all about Eurus now, about what Mycroft did to my memories, what happened to my home, my past drug habits, my addictive personality. Everything that transpired in Sherrinford, even. You know the most about me, more than John."</p><p>She swallows and places her smaller hand on top of his larger one. "I know..."</p><p>The waiter came back with their drinks and nachos and takes their dinner orders. Molly crunches into a couple. "Ooh, these are good. C'mon dig in"</p><p>Sherlock chuckles, and munches on a few. He snorts. "You've got cheese on your chin"</p><p>"Me? You've got sour cream on your nose."</p><p>"Huh? My nose? his brow furrows.</p><p>"Mhm" Molly smirks as she dabs some on her finger and pokes his nose with it.</p><p>"Hey!" he chuckles and wipes it off with his napkin.</p><p>She giggles in response. "It was way too tempting to resist. You fell for it."</p><p>"Okay, okay." Sherlock smiles softly.</p><p>Molly smiles slightly and folds her napkin absently. "So, you really want to know then...? About...my past that is..."</p><p>"Only if you're comfortable telling me. I know I can be a cock, but this conversation does not leave this room unless you choose for it to. I swear it."</p><p>She sighs. "Well, you know I don't have any family around."</p><p>"Yes, you work on Christmas and Easter and most holidays that require family gathering so I deduced as much. I know your father is deceased because you mentioned it to me before."</p><p>"Mhm. My...er...mother hasn't really been in the picture. At all. I'm actually glad for that, she wasn't a very nice or a stable person. Um..." Molly paces herself a bit. She finds it very painful to speak about her childhood.</p><p>"My...mother...if I can call her that, erm...she was very abusive. Towards me particularly. Um...my Dad, Mark Declan Hooper, he was an amazing man, he loved his family, but he was also a soldier. He was in his early thirties when I was little, so he was in deployment a lot of the time in Iraq. I He wasn't around so she...began drinking and taking pain meds and it was not very long after that that she began to hit me. Hitting turned into scratching which turned into withholding food, which turned into making me sleep in the closet..." she tears up and swallows hard. "But she would always hide it on the rare occasion that he was home...she would always play the pleasant wife and mother; she would make excuses as to why I had bruises and marks. I think that my Dad believed her because he had nothing else to go on. He had never seen her like that, and at five or six years old, I was so scared of her at that point that I wouldn't have even dared to speak about it to my Dad. I wanted to see him happy. A couple years later she had my brother Matthew, but for some reason she was good to him she did take care of him, and she used formula, knowing that the alcohol and meds would hurt him. She always loved him, but never me..."</p><p>Sherlock stares at her intensely, inner emotion swirling within his piercing eyes.</p><p>"It continued that way until I was just about thirteen. My dad had gotten shot in the side, and he had a couple broken ribs. He needed short term physical therapy, but he was released on Honorable Discharge from any further service. Once he was better and home full time, he began noticing that she was acting weird, that she was drinking too much, getting jittery, lashing out. I remember him peeking in to say goodnight to me one night and I was crying and shaking..." Molly's hand is trembling on the table and Sherlock covers it with his own.</p><p>"It's alright if you want to stop..." he says soothingly in his deep baritone voice.</p><p>She sniffles and dabs her eyes. Their entrees come and for a few moments they eat in silence. Sherlock has not removed his hand from hers. He eats slowly, concentrating on her.</p><p>Molly eats most of her dinner and takes a breath. "I'm sorry. It’s just...difficult. There's a lot more."</p><p>"Don't be sorry. You don't have to continue if you don't want to or you can't. I understand."</p><p>"No, it's alright...I know everything there is to know about you. Your deep dark secrets and your traumatic childhood. It's only fair that you know everything about me too."</p><p>Sherlock nods slowly. "Well...then...at your own time. I'm sorry...I had no idea..."</p><p>"I know you didn't..but that's why I got so upset when I saw you using, because I know for a fact that you are better than that, that you are a good person. Nothing good comes from it, ever. Nothing, Sherlock."</p><p>"I know, I know. I'm sorry Molly. I had no idea why it affected you so much, and it's all clear to me now."</p><p>Molly looks up at him. "It wasn't just because of that. You know that I really care about you."</p><p>His eyes soften. "I've witnessed that firsthand." Sherlock smiles.</p><p>Gently intertwining a couple of their fingers, she chews her lip and then continues. "So..my father came in and saw me sobbing and I told him everything. I just spilled my guts out to him. I told him everything she had done to me and that it had been happening since I was a little girl. I hated telling him because I saw his entire mood change from concern to guilt. He felt so guilty and he held me and cried with me." Molly tears up again. "My father loved me. He was a great soldier, a great father, and a really good man. He filed for custody of both of us after that and obviously he got it, since my mother couldn't go one more moment without being smashed out of her wits. She even showed up to court drunk as a skunk."</p><p>Sherlock blushes and formally holds her hand in his, stroking his thumb across the top. "I'm glad he got you away from that eventually, and that your brother was still really young when your dad got custody."</p><p>Well, even though he didn't get the house, since he didn't want to wait any longer to get us away from her, we lived in my Dad's family cabin in Sussex. It's a nice little place. Cozy and simple, on a lake. Anyway, everything was really good, you know? Life was normal for the first time in my life. I was happy and healthy and so was Matty. My dad even started dating again after the divorce, which of course I understood, but he never once put us second. We were always first in his eyes regardless." she looks down at their hands.</p><p>"When I was seventeen, he was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer and was only given a few months...but, being stubborn and totally afraid of what would happen to Matty and I he fought. And fought and fought. Over a year. By then, luckily, I was eighteen and I made a promise to him that I would take care of Matty. What else was I going to do? He was my baby brother, and he had been through enough with all the crap with mum and then my dad getting sick…he was ten years old, Sherlock. Ten. Still young and impressionable and vulnerable. My Dad was smart enough to sign everything he had over to me the second I turned eighteen, so I had what I needed to get started on our own. We had the cabin and the bank account and... and.." A few tears fall down her face and she sniffles. "All I wanted was my Dad...I didn't really care about the material stuff. But he was gone, and I had to plan his funeral by myself."</p><p>More tears stream down her face and Sherlock dabs at them with a napkin tenderly. "He got full honors at least. He deserved that...he was one of the most loving and caring people in the world. Lots of his war buddies spoke about him. He saved a couple of them..."</p><p>Sherlock's expression is filled with sadness for her. "I wish I had the honor of meeting him. He sounds like an extraordinary man, Molls. He must have been to have raised a determined, strong, and incredible woman like you."</p><p>Molly squeezes his hand. "That's very sweet of you to say. I wish he could have met you too."</p><p>He smiles weakly. "Well, I wasn't exactly worth meeting until fairly recently, I think."</p><p>"I think he probably could've seen through you too. Maybe it's just a Hooper thing." she smirks gently back at him.</p><p>"Maybe it is."</p><p>"So, I took care of my brother, made sure he was happy and healthy and that he did all of his homework and hung out with all of his friends, but I was authoritative when I had to be. I graduated my senior year and I took two odd jobs to earn money. I was a cashier at this mini mart in the afternoon, and I worked at a coffee shop in the mornings. Luckily, they were both part time so I could switch off days to still be with Matty. I was doing okay, but my good luck never stays around for long, so I took a complete nosedive after a while. I hate that I let myself down and I let my brother down...I was in an extremely dark place, Sherlock..."</p><p>"Dark? As in.."</p><p>"As in depression. It wasn't out of the blue though. It was a series of more terrible events that I just couldn't handle. I couldn't handle it all, Sherlock. I was nineteen years old, careless, alone, and already feeling low. I was a clear target and I didn't even see it coming...I was so damn stupid."</p><p>"Wait, what do you mean target? Molly...what are you talking about?"</p><p>Molly's voice gets small and soft. She closes her eyes as if looking at him would be pure humiliation. "I-I was...walking home from my cashier job...it was getting dark. I had walked he same route tons of times, it wasn't anything different." her voice begins to shake with emotion, and what almost sounded like fear, as if she was reliving the experience. "I was uh...I-I was jumped...h-he was a lot bigger than me...stronger." he lip begins to tremble. "He held me down" she chokes out. "H-his hand was over my mouth...h-he raped me."</p><p>Sherlock moves over to her side of the booth and carefully wraps his arms around her, letting her lean into his chest. She cries quietly. "Molly...I-...I'm so sorry you went through all of that. I'm so sorry..." he comforts her with his velvety voice. He gently strokes a tear from her cheek with his thumb and looks at her.</p><p>She sniffles and looks around embarrassed. Sherlock pays for their meal and escorts her out of the pub, linking arms with her once again. Molly hugs his arm, grounding herself. "Sherlock...I got pregnant." she lets out in a large breath. "I was nineteen and in a bad place and I had my brother to take care of but...in my mind, the baby was mine. I mean, they were growing inside of me. This was my child, my little baby. I was going to keep him. He was, in fact, a boy. I know it seemed crazy, but I loved him." Molly looks up at him, drenched in the yellow glow from the streetlights. "I loved him so much; I was going to name him Declan. Then I miscarried...seems I couldn't do that right either. That's when the depression took over my life. I couldn't eat, could barely sleep. I was completely underperforming at work, getting in trouble for too many breaks. I would break down in tears over what seemed like nothing. I kept pretending that I was alright, but I was only getting worse. Matty found me in my room, bleeding from my wrists...I'm sure you've noticed the scars."</p><p>Sherlock swallows the lump in his throat, the unimaginable image breaking into his mind and setting off his deeper emotions. "Dear God...Molly..."</p><p>"I got help...obviously. It took a few years, but I got better. I got a better paying job, saved up to put myself through University. I figured it was better late than never. I chose to go to med school after that. My decision to work with the deceased came from all the loss that I had suffered in my own life. I wanted to be the last connection between a family and their loved one. I wanted to give them closure and hope the way that I never had. I like my job, and I'm proud of how far I have come despite the circumstances." Molly states.</p><p>"As for my little brother, when Matty graduated from High School he made the decision to enlist. To follow in Dad's footsteps. Of course, I'm proud of him, but it killed me to let him go. I still worry about him constantly. He's still my baby brother, he always will be. He's been deployed for seven years now, on and off but mostly on since he's one of the youngest. He just turned twenty-three."</p><p>Sherlock nods silently as he hails a cab back to Baker Street. The pair climbs into the back and he gently wraps an arm around her smaller frame. "I know you have been facing things alone for a long time, and I just want to say that I'm proud of you. For everything you have endured and gotten past, and for everything that you are today, for the extraordinary woman that I know and... and... love."</p><p>Molly buries her face in Sherlock's shoulder, wanting desperately to say it back to him, however, she know he most likely said that out of pity and raw emotions that he is not yet used to accommodating. "Thank You." she replies quietly. "I'm sorry I ruined dinner with all of my doom and gloom...I just...I guess it feels nice for someone to know me. To really know me."</p><p>Sherlock slowly caresses Molly's cheek with his thumb, staring into the depths of her onyx pooled eyes under the moonlight. "I am glad you confided in me, and I am so sorry for the horrible ways I have treated you over the years. You are the strongest, most resilient human being I will ever have the good fortune of knowing, Molly Hooper."</p><p>Molly stared back in wonder and awe, golden orbs from the glow of the city encapsulating his own eyes. Having the overwhelming urge to kiss him, she quickly rationalizes it, remembering that he had done it to her in the morgue days ago. She impulsively leans in, her pulse drumming in her ears, and anxiously awaits the softness and warmth of Sherlock Holmes's cupid's bow lips that would meld against her own.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Depth of His Soul</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock and Molly return to Molly's home after their dinner, and things transpire in ways neither of them would have imagined.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Aye, we're here mates! That'll be £25. I've got other passengers to pick up."</p><p>Sherlock pauses millimeters from her lips and sits up, clearing his throat. "Apologies, yes." he mumbles as he pays the cabbie his fee.</p><p>Molly swore internally. She could've taken the cabbie's head off right there and then from stopping the kiss she had been longing for from Sherlock all night. She opens her door since it was sidewalk side, and slips out of the cab, Sherlock close in tow. She fumbles to find her keys in her purse and sighs annoyedly, walking up to her door. Sherlock is silent and takes in her demeanor, wondering if he should say something about what had just occurred, or rather, what had not just occurred. Molly grabs ahold of her keys and turns the lock to her house, making her way through the threshold and into the coziness of her little house. Sherlock can't help but smile at the color scheme, always infused with the fact that it is just so "Molly". Pale pinks, greys, whites, sage greens, and beiges pull the sitting room together in an ambiance of happiness and comfort. He stands outside the doorway, waiting for an invitation inside.</p><p>
  
</p><p>Molly no longer feels his presence behind her and turns to look. She raises an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"</p><p>"I'm...waiting to be asked in, isn't that the polite thing to do? he asks quizzically.</p><p>Molly chuckles exasperatedly. "Well, yes, but of course you can come in Sherlock. Would you like some tea?"</p><p>He strides into the home and closes the door behind him, slipping his Belstaff onto the coat rack by the door. "Tea would be pleasant, yes. Thank You."</p><p>Molly nods and goes into her kitchen. "Oh...dear God...her kitchen. THE kitchen." The kitchen that he could never get out of his brain. So much so that he's pretty sure he could tell you how many white, grey, and black tiles were on the backsplash. "For such a small home, she made sure she had quite a roomy kitchen. But then again, women like that don't they? Fancy kitchens?" Sherlock questions himself, not aloud. </p><p>
  
</p><p>Molly glances over and sees his slightly shock-stricken face. "Sherlock? Are you okay?"</p><p>"Oh, erm...yes. Sorry"</p><p>"Do you want to talk about it?"</p><p>"It's just...that's how you were. What- what you were doing when I called..."</p><p>Realization hits her. "Oh God, she had nearly forgot that Eurus had put cameras in her house, and they could see her. Nearly. She's just glad Scotland Yard came in and pulled all the bugs. Well...barged in is more like it, but she's grateful nonetheless." Molly thinks.</p><p>"Right...the cameras. It's alright, we are good now, right"</p><p>"Right, yeah, good." Sherlock murmurs in response and sits on her cozy pale pink sofa, stiff as a statue.</p><p>"You can relax you know. It's just me here. You don't have to keep up appearances or seem so...rigid. You can relax, loosen up a bit. Like I said, it's just me. I'm not special or anything."</p><p>Sherlock gives her the look that he had given her the day in the lab when she had said that she didn't count, as if he is looking directly through her. "Molly, we have been over this multiple times, how can you forget? You are special. Extremely. To me. You've been there for me through my darkest days. Only someone that is exceptionally special could ever begin to handle the likes of me, and yet you have done so with power and grace and intelligence all these years. I really do need you Molly. You really are special."</p><p>Molly feels her cheeks burning, knowing her blush is visible with the bright kitchen lights. "Th-thank you Sherlock...I just meant...you can lounge a bit on the sofa." She could have sworn she saw a blush atop his own cheeks.</p><p>"Oh." He nods and sits back a bit, still looking a bit stiff. Molly brings out their tea, her mug petite and flowery, and Sherlock's mug a darker color and more masculine. Sherlock looks into the mug curiously.</p><p>"Black tea, one sugar cube, and just the slightest drop of milk. I know how you like your tea and coffee."</p><p>Sherlock gives her a smirk and sips it. "Yours is three sugar cubes and a splash of lemon. If you don't have lemon, you use a splash of cream. Also, perfect as usual, Molly."</p><p>Molly smiles and sits on the sofa cushion next to him. The all too familiar awkwardness within her begins to take over her nerves and she somehow doesn't know what to say to him anymore. She continues to take small sips of her tea.</p><p>Sherlock does the same, not quite sure how to begin "small talk". He hated that anyway, but somehow with Molly, it wasn't so terrible. The pair sit together in silence, sipping their tea and quietly soaking in each other's soothing presence.</p><p>"This is a bit silly huh?" Molly inquires. "I mean, we're friends, and somehow we can't think of a word to say to each other."</p><p>Sherlock chuckles. "It's quite odd, isn't it? Well, I suppose we could watch "Glee"."</p><p>Molly laughs. "Firstly, the show ended years ago Sherlock. Secondly, I don't exactly like reliving it. Reminds me of dating the consulting criminal." she snorts.</p><p>"Ahh, okay, got you. So, what else? We could watch true crime!"</p><p>She giggles again in response. "Oh my God, how come I always thought you'd sit and watch true crime when you were bored, just to see if you could solve it first!?"</p><p>Sherlock smirks, his heart leaping in his chest at the sight of Molly's happiness, and he chuckles his deep, bass, genuinely happy chuckle.</p><p>"Okay, fine. True Crime it is. Confession, I sometimes watch serial killer documentaries. Mostly for the autopsy results, to see if there's anything different or odd about the body. With you running around London, who knows when that knowledge of some rare occurrence from telly could be needed."</p><p>Sherlock raises an eyebrow and glances sideways at her as she flips through Netflix for one she hasn't yet seen. Something inside him stirred and awakened when she was talking about her intelligence in comparison to crime. All he wants to do right now is put his lips on hers. "Christ...get it together Sherlock, you may be human, but you're not /that/ human...not yet anyway." he thinks to himself. "Yet? Does that mean my subconscious /wants/ to be human in that way, some day?" his eyes narrow and his eyes flicker as he runs through his thought process.</p><p>Molly starts the documentary and looks over at him. "What're you thinking about? The show's barely begun."</p><p>Sherlock looks at her. "Oh, uh, nothing important. Sorry." What he didn't say out loud is that for some reason all of his senses felt like they were standing on edge for seemingly no reason at all, he can't stop glimpsing at her lips; not small at all, perfect for her face shape by the way; and he was fidgeting with his fist because he desperately wanted to feel her perfectly pressured warmth against him. It felt like he was on a high, but detoxing at the same time. He had never felt like this ever in his life, and is completely daunted as to what to make of it.</p><p>Molly sees him rolling his fingers in a wave pattern and clasping his fist together over and over on his lap. She recognizes it as a nervous habit. He had done that nearly the whole of John's wedding when he wasn't holding something, and he also did it when they were waiting to meet John and Mary's little girl when she was first born. "You're nervous. I don't know what's on your mind, but it's alright. You're here right now and everything else can be handled later. You're right here Sherlock, you're grounded."</p><p>He swallows and looks at what seems like love in her eyes and hears the concern in her voice. "I'll be fine. I always am."</p><p>"Are you, though, really? Always? It's okay not to be okay...I-I'm here if you need. You know that."</p><p>Sherlock nods softly. "I do."</p><p>"Good..." she replies as she turns her attention to the television. Sherlock attempts to pay attention to the case on the screen as well, but something keeps irking him, keeps misfiring in his brain to concentrate on her instead; her slow inhalation and exhalation, indicative of the fact that she is calm. The focus in her eyes which give way to her intrigue about crime, nearly as much as he has. The unconscious curves of her lips, her expressions changing with the plotline of the documentary. The way she is moving her legs every so often, most likely hoping she was in clothes, more specifically pants, with more freedom to move, in order to properly curl up for the show, in which a skirt doesn't allow.</p><p>"Molly...?"</p><p>"Hmm?"</p><p>"You're at home. You can change into something more comfortable you know. No need to stay all...proper." Damn him for using the word "proper", it sounds so cold an unattached and he had made a valiant effort not to seem that way. Not tonight.</p><p>"Oh...um...are you sure? I don't want you to feel uncomfortable since you have nothing to change into..."</p><p>"I'm positive. Really."</p><p>"Alright. Do you mind if I pause the show for a moment?"</p><p>"Not a problem."</p><p>"Okay." She pauses it and goes to her bedroom. </p><p>
  
</p><p>Hell, was she really about to change into pajamas when Sherlock was over? How nuts was that!? "Ugh, I'm going to look so crappy he will never do this again" she mutters and pulls out sweats and an old Taylor Swift tee. After changing, she makes her way over to her vanity and ties up her hair in a messy bun, so she doesn't have to deal with it. Sighing, she pulls out a small contact vial and takes out her contacts, carefully placing them into the washing fluid. She places it back into her drawer and rubs her eyes, then takes out her dark-rimmed glasses, slipping them on her face. She groans a bit at her appearance, totally horrified that she took him up on the offer. "Well...into the arena" she murmurs.</p><p>Molly walks out and resumes her place on the sofa and resumes the show. She braces for impact, refusing to look at the most likely horrified face he's pulling.</p><p>Sherlock nearly feels his entire brain short circuit when he looked up and saw Molly looking like /that/. It was a sight to see. She looked absolutely gorgeous...maybe even more so than her pub clothes. Stripped down to cozy clothing, messy hair, and... "Bloody hell...Molly owns glasses?? Fuck..." He can feel himself staring, unable to move or speak. He opens his mouth to say something, /anything/, but his jaw just remains slack.</p><p>Molly cringes a bit and begins to chew her bottom lip. She can feel her heart drop, wanting to crawl into a hole and hide forever. Desperately trying to keep the tears at bay, she pulls a blanket over her lap and tries distracting herself with situating it upon her correctly.</p><p>Sherlock snaps out of it, realizing what she must be thinking. He knows she has a problem sometimes thinking positively about herself, especially her image and he knows he has a hand of blame in that. Sherlock gently places a hand on her knee above the blanket. "Molly...please...look at me."</p><p>Slowly raising her head to look at him, she expected the worst, definitely not what she heard. Or what she thought she heard.</p><p>"You are breathtakingly beautiful." He pauses a moment to let that sink in. "I know I have been vicious to you in the past. I know I am usually completely unaware of beauty. The worst thing that ever did was what I did to you. The only thing I want to do is make it up to you. I don't say any of this lightly, or any of it with pity. I'm telling you the truth."</p><p>Molly can't believe what she's hearing. She looks like complete trash, and Sherlock Holmes is now calling her "breathtakingly beautiful"? She sniffles, not knowing how to respond to that.</p><p>He looks broken, unsure, and emotionally disheveled as if he had just dug through the depth of his soul. He gently wraps an arm around her, pulling her softly against his side. Molly, in turn, completely melts against him. His warmth, his silent strength, his protectiveness, even the slight scent of his cologne. It was all encompassingly HIM, and if she never left this spot for the rest of her life, she would die happy. Without meaning to, he dips his head down to rest on hers, completely enjoying how much it soothes him to be this close to her.</p><p>Molly can feel the soft brush of his breath upon her forehead as he breathes nearly in time to her. She still cannot believe that this is actually happening. "If I'm dreaming, I swear to God..." she thinks. Her thoughts flash back to when he came to her home after he faked his death. He was honestly scared and depressed. She supposes that in his mind, by some force of nature he suddenly had friends, and then then were all taken away except her. Not only that but he had just single-handedly lost everything he had ever worked for, his reputation a giant part of that. She had allowed him to stay here for a while until he could sort out his travel plans to take down Moriarty's network. He was pleasant and polite and there were just a few times where he needed her comfort, but never to this extent. Almost afraid to break the moment, she slowly looks up at him, and he immediately looks back. Maybe, just maybe, this was the moment. There is no way they could be interrupted now. This kiss is going to happen if it killed her.</p><p>Sherlock looks down into her eyes, seeing his own reflection in the corner of her glasses. "Molly..."</p><p>She cuts him off with a whisper. "Don't say a word, Sherlock. Just...act."</p><p>He swallows hard and slowly brings his hand to cradle the back of her neck, a few fingers sliding into her hair. This sends a chain reaction of goosebumps and shivers down her arms and spine. Molly doesn't dare move a muscle, not even as he brings his other hand up to cradle the left side of her face, just tilting it slightly up towards him. He smiles softly and glowingly; in a way she has only seen rarely in the years she has known him. Then, watching him intensely, he finally, /finally/ leans in. Time seems to move in slow motion, ending in a standstill. "Oh, for God's sake" Molly mutters and grabs his face within her two hands gently, placing her mouth over his.</p><p>Sherlock feels Molly grab his face and then the impact of her lips meeting his. The sensation is foreign, but the most pleasant he has ever felt. Leading him, she deepens the kiss, but paces herself, in a teaching manner. Sherlock's eyes flutter closed the same time Molly's do, and he feels ethereal, like a high that he has never reached. The ultimate high mixed with the adrenaline rush to top them all, and he wants, no /needs/ more. Following her lead, he kisses back with fervor and excitement, maybe even passion. That's a new feeling. Within moments, their tongues dance together, and they draw life from each other's breath.</p><p>The sensation felt like it lasted mere milliseconds and hundreds of years all at once. They pull back from each other at the same time, and pant for breath as if it is a limited resource. Sherlock closes his eyes again and hums against his own lips. "mmh..."</p><p>Molly blushes pink and grins. "Well...that was..."</p><p>"Exhilarating" Sherlock finishes. "Completely and utterly exhilarating." he murmurs, relishing in the afterglow of the sensation.</p><p>"I was going to say amazing, but yeah let's go with yours. Your word is better."</p><p>"Why didn't you ever tell me that that is what kissing you properly feels like?"</p><p>"What!?" she laughs softly. "Are you serious?"</p><p>"Possibly. If I had known sooner, maybe we could have tried sooner."</p><p>"Oh, yeah, sure." she retorts.</p><p>"Well, at least now that I know we can do it again sometime."</p><p>"Sometime?"</p><p>"Well...whenever you want to, I mean"</p><p>"Whenever /I/ want to?"</p><p>"We. I meant...we. Whenever /we/ want to."</p><p>"Good correction."</p><p>"Thank You." he smirks. "That was probably the biggest high I have ever had in my entire life."</p><p>"Well, let's not get addicted now. We both know how you are."</p><p>"You /don't/ want me to get addicted to you?"</p><p>She turns red and adjusts her glasses. "Sherlock..."</p><p>"I'm sorry...this is too hasty and I'm not too good in this area and...and...I'm maybe panicking a bit."</p><p>"Just...pace yourself, okay? We've went out once. We're friends...confidantes, right?"</p><p>Sherlock's face falls a bit. "Yes...of course we are, but maybe we could work up to possibly being...more."</p><p>"We could work up to that, yeah. I'm willing to try, and I know you lack the experience in any form of the word when it comes to romantic entanglements. I know what you're like. However, you must know for a fact that you want to try. I don't want to be a pawn, or an experiment. I don't want you to keep changing you mind over and over when you get scared. I need to know you'd actually be in this with me...I'm getting older. I'm done with games from men."</p><p>He listens to her speak and nods. "I want to. Try, that is. I can't promise that I will be around all the time like any ordinary man would. I-...I do still have cases. I have one I'm working on now for Lestrade. But I do /want/ to try. I don't know that I can be what you want or expect me to become, but I'm willing to put in an effort."</p><p>Gently hugging him, she nods. "We can try then."</p><p>"Can we still be friends as well, though?" he looks concerned.</p><p>Molly chuckles. "Yes, Sherlock. I will always be your friend too, no matter what."</p><p>He grins and looks at the TV. "I actually haven't listened to one bit of this. Sorry."</p><p>"I haven't really either" she giggles.</p><p>"It's getting late. I should head back to Baker Street, and you should rest for work tomorrow."</p><p>"Ugh, don't remind me. Today was so relaxing."</p><p>Sherlock smiles and walks over to the door, Molly following to show him out. He shrugs his coat onto his shoulders, then kisses her cheek. "Until next time, Doctor Hooper."</p><p>"Good Night, Sherlock." she closes the door behind him and cleans up their cups, grinning to herself. She may just be the woman to get Sherlock Holmes. Mary comes through like a champ every time.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Back at Moriarty Manor, the Tiger watches Molly over a live feed and laughs. "It's so divinely easy to break into her flat. You'd think she would have learned her lesson. Poor fool. Living all alone in that big house...would be a shame if someone broke in while she was home."</p><p>Lionel smirks. "Well...she's quite a delectable little woman, sir."</p><p>"That she is, but let's not get carried away. We have to be quick and efficient in our goal. It's funny how the woman who came up with the general idea of our plan is none other than the little sister of dear Mr. Holmes. Unfortunately, regardless of how brilliant she was, she went about it the wrong way. Too soft on her brother. Too riskless. Fake bombs? That's primary criminality, so boring. Jimmy would have thought so too. Our plan is way better, and it will finally burn his heart out. I'll love to see how he solves this with nothing to go on, won't you?"</p><p>"Can't wait, sir. It will be the grandest of showings."</p><p>"That it will. You know, murder is my line of work, but I always saw it as necessary for the common enemy. I have nothing against this woman, but since she has fallen into the clasp of Sherlock Holmes and he has become repugnantly human, the way to burn his heart out is to snuff out her ordinary, unimportant life. Funny enough if we don't act at the right time, I fear The Virgin may not be able to keep his little nickname. She's quite the slut for him and he laps it right up. Plus, I always find it hilarious watching them struggle. Jimmy always had me end them too quickly. Don't get me wrong, I love sharpshooting, but sometimes I crave to see the struggle. To see just how much they are willing to give to live, and not getting it in the end. It's a delicious adrenaline rush."</p><p>"Maybe we should have some fun with her before killing her, sir."</p><p>"That would be quite gratifying, but it would only slow us down, Lionel. You must think."</p><p>"Right, of course."</p><p>"Their relationship keeps getting juicier and juicier. I can't wait to snatch her away riiiiight when he needs her most. It's going to be jolly." he cackles and watches Molly straighten out her flat on the laptop live feed, documentation of all of their texts and conversations next to him on the tablet, including bugs they had a corrupt waiter put in their pub booth.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Sherlock stumbles back into 221B and tosses his coat onto the sofa. He's doing his best to wrap his mind around the events the night had held. Never in his life did he ever imagine that a kiss could make so many sensations emanate from himself. He shudders just thinking about it and strips down to his briefs, crawling into his bed. The moonlight drenches one side of his room in a soft glow and he stares up at the ceiling, his many thought swirling around in his brain. He remembers what he had begun to tell John for the millionth time since they began friends, however John had a different idea of where it should end. <b><em>"Romantic entanglements, while fulfilling for other people..." "...would complete you as a human being." </em></b>Sherlock wonders if this is how normal people feel when attached to another human being romantically, because being the way he was with Molly tonight had felt so easy, so right. If this is how John felt when he met Mary. He had promised Molly he would try, and he will. Maybe she will let him become more if he succeeds. "Boyfriend" he mutters. "God, how I hate that word." However, the meaning and purpose behind the word-- that is what he hoped to achieve. Sherlock can't imagine life without Molly Hooper around. He would simply cease; who is he without her? A detective needs a pathologist. A sociopath, which he has come to realize he is not, needs an empath. She has become the yin to his yang, and the heart to his brain.</p><p>Sherlock gasps and springs out of bed, pulling his purple shirt out of the hamper and detaching his now beloved lapel pin off of it, gently returning it to its rightful place in the evergreen case, and securely closing the drawer. Returning to bed, he smiles to himself. "The heart to my brain..." he murmurs. She really did know him better than anyone else, and far before anyone else had ever even attempted to figure him out. He was an impossible, crazy, mad, childish man, but one that she wanted, and one that she loved, despite the multitude of flaws he knows he has. That she surely was and always will be; the heart to his brain.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. In An Official Capacity</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Molly has a not so good day at work but pays a visit to 221B for dinner. What she walks into shocks her.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning Molly wakes and gets dressed for work. She remembers that her car is at Baker Street and arranges for a cab to come and bring her there. Pulling up to Baker Street, she pays the cabbie and pulls her keys out of her satchel bag. For a moment she ponders whether she should pop in for a quick "hello", but figures Sherlock is probably still sleeping. Molly smiles and goes into Speedy's, seeing Mrs. Hudson behind the counter.</p><p>"Good Morning, Mrs. H! Ooh, everything looks yummy."</p><p>"Molly! How good to see you! What can I get you today?"</p><p>"Hmm...I think I'll have a blueberry scone and a coffee; cream and three sugars. Thank You" Molly smiles sweetly at her.</p><p>"Coming right up, darling." she responds, grinning happily.</p><p>A moment later, Molly receives her morning goodies and pays. She notices Martha staring at her knowingly, with a glint in her eye. Molly raises an eyebrow. "Oh, okay, spill. What do you know?"</p><p>Martha laughs in her funny little way. "Oh dear, maybe I'm jumping to conclusions, but that was your car outside of Baker Street all night wasn't it?"</p><p>Molly's face turns crimson and she clears her throat, trying not to stammer. "O-oh". Dammit. "Well, yes, but, no it's not what you're thinking."</p><p>"What do you suppose I'm thinking lovey?"</p><p>"I didn't stay over...it was just my car...um...Sherlock and I went out last night and I left my car here so we could take a cab, and then I ended up taking a cab back home, so...I'm just grabbing it on my way to work."</p><p>"You went out, you say?"</p><p>"Yes...but it wasn't...well...I mean..."</p><p>"It's alright dear, I know how he is. Probably wasn't very well defined, but that boy likes you, don't you fret about it."</p><p>Molly smiles shyly and sips her coffee. "It's a start Mrs. Hudson. I best be on my way now, but it was nice chatting with you."</p><p>"I'll see you soon Molly. Maybe more often, huh?" she grins mischievously.</p><p>Molly chuckles. "Yeah, maybe. Have a nice day."</p><p>"You as well dear."</p><p>Hopping into her little yellow car, she makes her way to Bart's Hospital staff parking. Moments later, she fiddles with the lock on her office before entering and flicking the lights on. She groans at the stack of paperwork on her desk left over from a couple nights ago, and sets her things down. Out of habit, she immediately goes around unlocking the morgue and the lab, which her office adjoined, including all the chemical and file cabinets. She then preps the morgue for incoming autopsies and looks at her list for the day. "At least today's list is small" she thinks to herself. "I'll have more time for the backlog of paperwork."</p><p>Molly gets herself settled at her desk, knowing that she has about one hour until her first autopsy. She whisks through a good portion of the stack between nibbling on her scone and drinking her coffee.</p><p>At nine o'clock she goes into the morgue and accepts the body for the autopsy. It's a young girl, who was around 7 years old. God, how she hates seeing children on the slab. Molly must force herself not to become emotional as she does her best to care for her body and find out what killed her. She removes and studies each organ and tissue sample carefully. She ends up sniffling softly, saddened that this little girl's life must end so tragically.</p><p>When she is finished, Molly sews her back up and says a small prayer over her body. She writes down her findings on her form and sighs. "Heart attack caused by a congenital heart defect undiscovered at birth." she mutters as she writes. Absolutely heart-wrenching. It could have been prevented. She snaps her gloves off and tosses them into the waste bin, carefully rolling the body into the refrigerated compartment and locking it. Molly sighs heavily and looks up at the clock. It's nearly noon, and her next autopsy isn't until 1:30pm. Molly cleans up the autopsy area and disinfects everything.</p><p>Just as she is about to return to her office, the doors of the morgue swing open with a squeak. Taking long strides toward her, with his hands behind his back and grinning is none other than Sherlock Holmes.</p><p>"Oh boy...what do you need Sherlock? This isn't a very good day for favors."</p><p>Before saying a word, he pulls his hands out from behind his back and produces the most beautiful dozen of red roses. "I'm sorry you're not having a good day, Molls." he hands them to her and kisses her cheek.</p><p>Molly tears up slightly, and gently takes them in her hand. "Oh, they're gorgeous. Thank You."</p><p>Sherlock softly wraps his arms around her. "Molly...what's wrong?"</p><p>Her eyes sparkle with tears as she looks up at him, distraught. "I had to do an autopsy on a seven year old...she was so little, Sherlock."</p><p>He nods slowly and rubs her back gently, attempting to soothe her. "I'm sorry...that must have been difficult."</p><p>Molly sighs into his chest, cuddling into his coat. "I have my next autopsy at 1:30."</p><p>"Then we should go and get lunch. That's what I was coming here to ask you. I missed you this morning. Mrs. Hudson told me that you were by to grab your car and you went into Speedy's for some breakfast. Oh, I should mention that by "lunch", I do not necessarily mean cafeteria food. What do you feel like?"</p><p>"I'm not very hungry Sherlock, sorry."</p><p>"Maybe not but you have a long day ahead and you need to eat. Isn't that what you're always telling me?"</p><p>She looks up at him again. "Alright...I'll try to eat something."</p><p>"Good. How does a grilled cheese sound? They have that new sandwich shop a few paces down the road and supposedly they're famous for their grilled cheese. I know you like cheese."</p><p>"I suppose that's fine. Thanks."</p><p>Sherlock tenderly cups her face with his large hands. He looks down at her with a look of worry on his face. "Will you be okay?"</p><p>Molly smiles slightly, leaning into his touch. "Yes, I'll be fine Sherlock." She goes on her tiptoes and gently pecks his lips, blushing. She could have sworn he blushed too.</p><p>Sherlock clears his throat. "Well then...lunch?"</p><p>"Lunch" she replies, quickly grabbing her purse and coat from her office. Locking the morgue after them, she walks with Sherlock out of Bart's arm in arm.</p><p>From a distance a familiar figure smirks, eager to report to his boss that Sherlock Holmes was in fact getting softer by the day, especially for the little pathologist.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Late that night, Molly finally finishes the stack of paperwork that had been on her desk. Smiling triumphantly, she sets them in the bin to be filed by one of the interns. She was proud of everything she accomplished today. Four autopsies finished and worked up, she taught day one of her new intern seminar that afternoon (thank goodness all her students were very bright), and now all her backlogged paperwork. Her stomach growls and she looks up at the clock. 10:06pm. Her back aches a bit from sitting so long and she stretches, getting her phone and keys out of her bag. Biting her lip, her checks her phone and sees there is a missed text. She opens it.</p><p>{Molly, have a better rest of the day at work. You're the best pathologist anyone could ever know. Talk soon. -SH}</p><p>Molly smiles to herself and send a reply. {I know I'm a bit late responding, but yes it got better. I'm starved though. Any suggestions for dinner? xx Molly}</p><p>Chat bubbles pop up, followed by a near immediate response. {Come to Baker Street. - SH}</p><p>She immediately begins to panic a bit, unsure. {Oh...why? xx Molly}. Groaning at how shocked she seemed, she internally scolds herself.</p><p>{Well, I have lots of leftovers from Angelo's. I picked up your favorite just in case. Don't worry, I put it in a separate portion of the fridge way from the body parts. 😁 -SH}</p><p>Ugh, he was impossible, and of course he KNEW she'd be working late and would be hungry. Baker Street was in fact, closer to Bart's than her home.</p><p>{"Just in case"??? Also, we need to get you a second mini fridge! xx Molly}</p><p>{Yes. Just in case you were hungry and worked late, as you have. Plus, my place is closer than yours. I'll consider a mini fridge, if that means you come over more often. -SH}</p><p>Was he trying to FLIRT with her??? {You really are going to have to lend me the secrets of how you miraculously know the future whenever you want to. Also, depends on you. xx Molly}</p><p>{Oh, please, you know my methods. I am the all-knowing Sherlock Holmes. 😏 Fine, I'll be good. -SH}</p><p>{🤦You are absolutely impossible. I'm leaving Bart's now. Shouldn't be more than 20 minutes. xx Molly}</p><p>{👍🏻 -SH}</p><p>Molly smiles to herself, moved by how much he thought of her, and would think to get her food when he got his own. She's also glad that he has been eating, and hopefully sleeping. She locks everything up and exits, the dimly lit corridor of the more inconspicuous hospital level never ceasing to send a chill down her spine late at night, as she made her way to the parking garage.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>The little yellow buggy pulls up outside of Baker Street and Sherlock grins out the window. He has never felt so entirely nervous or jittery in his entire life. He ruffles his hair and tugs at his shirt cuffs, waiting for her to come up. After a few fleeting moments he hears her knock at the door. "Come in!" he shouts loud enough for her to hear, as he picks up his violin and begins playing.</p><p>Molly opens the door and steps into 221B, her jaw dropping. The flat is all organized and he has turned his large desk into a table, adorned with a pearl colored tablecloth and swan shaped napkins. Their food is steaming and on two plates next to glasses of what she presumes to be her favorite brand of red wine. Two gorgeous and tall platinum candlesticks are evenly placed a couple feet away from each edge, flickering candles within them. Molly takes in the room and exhales the breath she was holding. She realizes that Sherlock is playing the most beautiful melody she has ever heard, one she does not recognize from him. The bow slowly sweeps along the strings delicately as he turns to look her in the eyes while he plays. She blushes and suddenly cannot think of a more intimate moment than the one she is in now, looking into his gorgeous heterochromia eyes, hearing the soft, yet deeply sensual diminuendo and crescendo of the notes, their romantic dinner blurring into the background of her vision as she melts into his gaze.</p><p>Sherlock smiles the most genuinely as he ever has before, playing her song. He knows he has improved in playing ever since visiting Eurus and using her gifted Stradivarius, since she teaches him in a way that words aren't needed. As the notes come to a resonating end, he smiles and places it back in the case. It seems he has somehow rendered Molly quite speechless. Walking over to her he gently takes her arm, slipping his hand down and past her pulse point to hold he hand. "Molly?" he asks softly.</p><p>"I-...that was absolutely exquisite Sherlock. A-And...the room, dinner...I never would have thought..."</p><p>"Thought...that I would be able to create something romantic? Me neither, and I admit I had a little bit of help, but dinner was all my idea. The song was also my idea, I composed it earlier. Do you really like it?"</p><p>"Like it? Sherlock, it's the most beautiful thing I have ever heard in my life."</p><p>"Good. Because I created it with you in mind. I...made a song that represents you, Molly, and how I...feel...about you. Does that make sense?"</p><p>Molly looks up at him teary eyed. "Are you serious?"</p><p>"I don't joke too often, and I wouldn't for something I am this serious about. I titled it "The Epiphany.""</p><p>Standing on her tiptoes, she throws her arms around his neck and presses her lips to his, kissing him with an elation he has never seen regarding himself. His eyes flutter closed, and he slowly snakes his arms around her middle, kissing her back eagerly. They only break away once they need air. "Damn oxygen" he mutters, not realizing that he had said it out loud, against her lips.</p><p>Molly giggles and pants for breath, looking up at him. "I can't believe that song is for me...it's like it transcends sound and space itself it's so beautiful. You're so incredibly talented."</p><p>Sherlock blushes a bit and straightens up, gently letting go of her smaller frame. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I wanted you to. Thank You."</p><p>Grinning, Molly finally takes her coat off and sets her small purse on the sofa. "I'm not dressed fancy..."</p><p>"Well, you don't have to be. It's just you and me and pasta take-out from Angelo's, with the guise of looking like a fancy dinner."</p><p>She lets out another giggle. "Ooh, romantic. You didn't have to spoil it, you git."</p><p>"Sorry...I'm...learning." he chuckles softly and pulls out a seat for her which she graciously takes and pushes in. Sherlock sits opposite her in his own chair.</p><p>"So, my favorite wine, I assume? Since you are the "all-knowing Sherlock Holmes"? she teases him, smirking.</p><p>He chuckles his gloriously deep chuckle that Molly adores, and she smiles. "Of course, Doctor Hooper."</p><p>"What's with the swan napkins? They're very cute but I thought you only knew how to do serviettes?" she laughs.</p><p>"Ohh, I have many hidden talents, Hoops."</p><p>"Sherlock!"</p><p>"Okay, I also linked those on YouTube." he sighs exasperatedly.</p><p>Molly laughs softly and puts a hand on his. "Well it was a sweet gesture, Holmes." she responds, before digging into her food. God, she was starving. "Thanks for waiting for me to eat. You didn't have to you know."</p><p>Sherlock grins and begins to eat his own dinner. "No, but then it wouldn't have been romantic. Not with me sitting here and staring at you as you consume it from a take-out container."</p><p>"That's true."</p><p>They eat and drink in comfortable silence, a nice change from the usual awkward dance that they do when feeling out of place.</p><p>After a while, Sherlock raises his wine glass. "We forgot the toast."</p><p>"The toast?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Right, okay, so what are we toasting to?" she chuckles.</p><p>"Well...us."</p><p>"Us?"</p><p>Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Yes, we are an "us" right? I mean...we're trying to be an "us"...I'd like to be..."</p><p>Molly nods softly. "Okay...to us then."</p><p>Sherlock nods and clinks his glass with hers and they sip.</p><p>"So, you want to be an us? Like..."</p><p>"Officially. Now, I do hate the word "boyfriend" " he sneers, like it's a bad taste in his mouth. "But I don't like the idea of any other man having you ever again. I know your favorite food, wine, tea, perfume scent, and your shampoo even. I know your entire history, the way you chew your lip when you're nervous or focused. I know how skilled and precise you are when you perform an autopsy and how certain ones affect you. I know of your unfortunate array of brightly colored fall jumpers, how you got Toby so you would feel less lonely, and that people rarely give you the credit that you deserve. I also know now that your lips are absolutely the perfect size, your jokes are adorably morbid, for some reason you always choose to save my life even when I'm a complete arse, and you have an amazing figure despite how terrible I have falsely degraded you. I know that you are one of the most incredible women I have ever met in my life and I would be an absolute fool to let you slip away again. Especially to the likes of ordinary, stupid blokes such as Tom. So...please...I never beg. I love you, Molly Hooper. In ways that I never imagined in my wildest thoughts that I would love another human being. I don't even think I was capable of such an emotion. You seem to be on my mind all the time, making me a better man, a better detective, and a better musician. So yes, putting every single thing that I had thought I knew to the side, including my over inflated ego...I want you. I want us. Please."</p><p>Molly gets up and sniffles, going over to his side of the table as he looks up at her quizzically like a wounded puppy. She sits on his lap gently and hugs him tightly. He stiffens up, not used to this type of affection still but slowly his muscles relax, and he returns the hug, smiling at the sweet smell of her perfume. "I want us too. If you're sure. I love you too, Sherlock."</p><p>"I...I'm not very good at this but...I want to be. I'm trying."</p><p>"Shh...it's okay. I know you are." she pulls back and carefully cups his cheek. "I know. You're doing an amazing job. I mean, look what you did for me tonight. Regardless of whether you had help or not, it was beautiful. Plus the song you made for me you didn't have help with and it's literally the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me in my entire life. You're doing well."</p><p>"So, this is it then. I'm the...partner? Totally? Like in an official capacity?"</p><p>"We can work on wording, but, yes." she grins and chuckles.</p><p>Sherlock nods. "Right then. This is good. We're good. Oh God, we're a "we". I sound like John when Mary was alive."</p><p>Molly laughs. "Sherlock, stop panicking. We may be a "we", but I am still me and you are still you. Okay?"</p><p>"Okay...right."</p><p>"I still have my job, and you still have your job. It's not like we suddenly become glued together."</p><p>"I know, it's just...not my area."</p><p>"It will be eventually. Like you said, you're trying, and honestly that's all I need. Effort. I'm not high maintenance."</p><p>He swallows and nods slowly, becoming pale. "What about..."</p><p>Molly's cheeks turn a certain shade of scarlet. "We don't have to discuss that until the day comes that you're comfortable enough..."</p><p>"But we're in a relationship now...isn't that...what people...do?"</p><p>"Erm...most people, yes. But this is us. We can take things slowly. I think our situation is a bit different..."</p><p>"Only because of me." he states, as his fingers tap on the table.</p><p>Molly chews her lip, not knowing what to say. Dear Lord, she never thought the day would come that Sherlock Holmes would talk about sex! Least of all sex with her!</p><p>"So..." she starts, awkwardly.</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Hm?"</p><p>"Yes, I am...the nickname, the teasing. It's true" he says monotonously.</p><p>"Oh." Molly knew by now that her face was no longer a creamy white, but the shade of a red delicious apple.</p><p>"Does that change things...?"</p><p>"What? No, of course not. I think we've been through worse than...virginity" Molly cringes a bit as the words come out of her mouth.</p><p>Sherlock is silent and gently buries his face in the crook of her neck. Molly gently runs her fingers through his curls soothingly and she hears him sigh. "I don't want to ruin this, Molly."</p><p>"You're not ruining anything. It's okay, really. We can take things slow. I want to. I don't want to mess this up, because you're the man I've wanted for so long. Not because of your bedroom status, but because of who you are. You're so intelligent and talented. You have helped more people in London than probably anyone, I love that you're different and that you see the world differently. I love the way you can read people and the way you get excited to solve cases. I also know that despite popular belief, you have always loved and cared for your friends. You would have done anything to save their lives, and you did. You faked your death and went through literal torture in Serbia to come home to us. Just so that there would no longer be a bounty on their lives. I know that not telling them was just as hard, if not harder for you than it was for me. I could see it in your eyes when you stayed at my home before leaving. I saw how crushed you were. I have always seen the real you under the hard shell of a facade you put on to protect people. I also know that you love your parents AND your siblings, despite how annoying they can be. Mycroft loves you too, I know you know that from all the times he has saved YOU. The point is, I don't care about your dating history, or lack thereof. I care about you now."</p><p>Sherlock's eyes blur with tears he tries his best to hold back. "I'm a freak..." he says quietly.</p><p>"No, you're a genius. You're a human being. You're a caring friend and, apologies, boyfriend. You are phenomenally unique and magnificently special, and I wouldn't have it any other way. The world needs William Sherlock Scott Holmes as much as I do."</p><p>He sighs shakily. "The world needs Margaret Louise Hooper as well. If you weren't here...I wouldn't have survived Molly."</p><p>"Then I guess everything really does happen for a reason then, huh?"</p><p>Sherlock smiles slightly and brushes hair away from her face. "Not everything...but some things. Mary wasn't supposed to die...that was my fault."</p><p>"No, she wasn't. But she made her choice. She chose to save you. She knew the world needed you. She knew I needed you."</p><p>"But John needed her. Rosie needed her. How is that fair?"</p><p>"It's not. But she made her choice. You know nobody could tell her what to do. She chose to jump in front of that bullet, and nobody could stop her, not even you. As sweet as she was, she was damn stubborn."</p><p>"I kept talking...I just kept snarking. At a woman with a damn gun, Molly. If I hadn't...she would be alive. She wouldn't have had to jump in front of me."</p><p>"How do you know that? There is no way to know that Sherlock. Vivian was a career criminal, and a very good one to go under the radar working with the British Government, no less. She wasn't going down without a fight. Whether you made fun or not."</p><p>Sherlock's gaze drifts down to his fingers, which have resumed tapping on the table. "I suppose."</p><p>Molly gets up and clears the dishes, coming back to find Sherlock curled up on the sofa. She smiles and slips her shoes off, climbing over him and cocooning herself between him and the sofa back. His eyes furrow.</p><p>Without a word, she smiles and cuddles him so his head lays on her shoulder. She strokes his hair and his eyes slip closed in thought. Molly turns on his small television and watches absently, just being present for Sherlock if he needed her to be.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Meanwhile at Moriarty Manor, Lionel brings his boss the checklist of everything that needed to be done before they can successfully begin to initiate their plan into action. Every box has been checked, and every piece of the puzzle has been thoroughly put together to make it happen in a timely and despicable manner.</p><p>"Everything is good to go, boss. Every detail, every situation to allow for. The dosage has been tested and lasts about 50 minutes, which will allow an extra 10 minutes of transport. We have successfully performed the plan five times, corrected any little hiccups that could've happened. You'll be happy to know that it should go off without a single hitch for her. I told everyone you would be pleased."</p><p>He smirks evilly. "I am, Lionel. Very pleased. Shouldn't be more than a couple days now. They seem to be advancing in their little lovey dovey masquerade pretty quickly. We must get her the second the moment is right for the most hurtful and traumatic impact on Holmes. I will not rest until I have his complete and total destruction in the palm of my hand. I want him to BURN. To SEETHE. To want to end his own misery. The most powerful emotion in the world Lionel, for ordinary folks is love. That's exactly what he is. Ordinary. I believe he is known to have said <em><b>"Love is a much more vicious motivator."</b></em> If only he knew it would be the key to his own demise. That we have too; the key. My Jimmy always said, <em><b>"The man with the key is King." </b></em>Believe me...I am KING. Holmes will be decimated."</p><p>"Nothing brings me greater pleasure than seeing you exuberant over the downfall of your enemies."</p><p>"Well we are the biggest criminal enterprise in London. The fool actually thought that dismantling our Serbian and Middle Eastern subordinates would make a dent here at home base. Too bad he wasn't in fact beaten to death. But this is more fun. Also, their little heartfelt dinner last night was quite the experience! I felt like I was right there in the room with them." he laughs maniacally. "Oh wait, I technically was!" he continues to laugh. "Ah, Lionel...he isn't much of a detective. Those bugs have been in their homes for over a week and he still doesn't suspect a thing. I am so glad I have network to do my bidding. I just want to be able to watch the life slowly and painfully drain out of her pretty little face, then watch his sheer panic as he tries and tries to THINK, but find out that love has clouded his abilities. Poor, poor Mr. Holmes."</p><p>"Ah, dinner." he exclaims as the cook comes out with a feast of filet, potatoes, asparagus, and wine. "Your favorite, Mr. Moran sir." They set the platter down in front of him and tuck a napkin into his collar. "Enjoy, sir."</p><p>"Oh, I will be enjoying for quite a while." Sebastian grins devilishly, as he stabs into his meat purposefully. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. A Dire Oversight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Progression is made in Sherlock and Molly's relationship, Sherlock's case, and an evil plot.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A crash of thunder booms outside the window startling Molly awake. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes and suddenly feels out of place. Her eyes snap open then widen in confusion. There she was, in Sherlock's room. In Sherlock's BED. He is nowhere to be found, and she is still in her clothes from the previous day, less her jumper and shoes. Another stroke of lightning lights up the room, followed by another boom and the loud patter of a downpour. Molly stretches and recounts the events of the previous night, smiling softly. For a split second she wonders if she was drunk, but realizes she only had a glass, but fell asleep on the sofa with him. She slides out from under the blankets and looks down at her sock-clad feet. Opening the door to his bedroom, she quietly makes her way down the hall until the kitchen and sitting room come into view.</p><p>Sherlock is in his pajamas and royal blue dressing gown, comfortably folded up in his chair and tapping away on his laptop. He looks so focused she almost doesn't want to disturb him. As if he has a sixth sense about her presence, he looks up and sees her standing there, her hair a bit messy and her blouse all wrinkled. He grins and pops up out of his seat.</p><p>"Molly! Good morning. Sleep well? Good. I did my best to make you comfortable without making you uncomfortable, if you catch my drift."</p><p>Molly chuckles and softly hugs him around his middle. "Good Morning to you too. I didn't actually mean to fall asleep all night. I'm sorry I did...er...how exactly did I...?"</p><p>"End up in my bed? Easy, I carried you there. You sleep like a log you know. I woke up around three and we were too bunched up on the sofa so I carried you to my room, removed your shoes and jumper and tucked you in. I did try to doze off beside you but then my judgement got the better of me and I wasn't sure if you would freak out, so I tried to curl up at the end of the bed, which was more uncomfortable than the sofa, so I ended up locating back to the sofa."</p><p>She blushes profusely and looks up at him. "You...carried me?"</p><p>"Well, yes. You looked peaceful, so I didn't think it was best to wake you."</p><p>"Right...but it's your bed. Why didn't you leave me on the sofa and take it?"</p><p>"I was being a gentleman. Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? The bed is comfier."</p><p>Molly smiles happily and stands on her tip-toes, kissing his cheek. "You're amazing. Also, you could have slept next to me..." her cheeks turn redder. "I mean, we are like, official now. Plus, I don't think we would have been nearly as squashed as we were on the sofa silly."</p><p>Sherlock looks shy and kisses her forehead. "Well, I decided that it was probably best that I get the chance to ask you for next time instead of assuming. Oh, and I may have called Mike to tell him that you were going to be late today. I knew you'd be an absolute monster if you had to present yourself at work all wrinkled. Unfortunately, none of your clothing resides here. Maybe we should fix that."</p><p>Molly's eyebrow shoots up. "Fix that? Do you intend for me to sleep here half the time?"</p><p>"Isn't that what couples do? Sleep over?"</p><p>"Well yes..."</p><p>"Then what's the issue?"</p><p>"Nothing, that's sweet of you...just..."</p><p>"Ah, I see."</p><p>"Do you?"</p><p>"You're embarrassed. You would rather Mrs. Hudson and John not walk in and find out that way."</p><p>"I'm not embarrassed. Not of you, or us. It's just different and a bit fast. I'm not complaining, I would just rather let our friends know on our own time instead of that happening."</p><p>Sherlock nods. "Apologies...I'm still learning how to do this right. Of course you want to tell our friends traditionally. But I do rather enjoy your presence here at night, even if we aren't in the same room. You just have this soothing aura about you Molls. So, at your own time, whenever you feel ready, I would gladly make room for some of your things here at my flat. I know it doesn't come close to your roomier home, but..." he shrugs a bit, looking around.</p><p>"But, it's your home. You shouldn't be ashamed of it at all. It's in an incredible location, and more than that, your landlady is someone you deeply care for. That's a sentimental connection that I don't think you would ever bring yourself to break." she smiles softly. "And for the record, I know that even a small flat can feel lonely at night when you're alone. I like that you want me around, and I want you to know that you're not alone. You never have to be alone. I'm here. Whatever you need."</p><p>Pulling her close, he grins and wraps his dressing gown around the both of their forms, hugging her into it. He smiles softly, but openly, fully trusting her with his feelings. "I know you are. You always have been. You've always been what I needed. I was just too thick to realize."</p><p>Blushing, she leans her head against his chest and smiles sleepily, relishing in his warmth. "You know now. I was lucky enough before that you trusted me with your life. Even as friends, I knew that you knew I saw you, that I cared about you. I'm overjoyed that you feel deeply for me now, the way I have for a while. I love you, Sherlock."</p><p>Gently resting his head on hers, comforted by the small weight of her head on his chest, he lets out a breath. "I love you too, Molly. It still worries me to say so, it still feels foreign coming from my own mouth. But I'm doing my best. I will always say it back, and hopefully I'll get better."</p><p>"Good. I don't need you to be perfect. I just need you to be you, and to be honest. Okay?"</p><p>"Always." he murmurs. "Mhh...Mrs. Hudson will be up here any minute with scones and coffee. Please don't kill me."</p><p>"Sherlock!!"</p><p>"I'm sorry! I just…know she brings up breakfast for me and I figured she may as well bring you some too. Unfortunately, I don't think she will let either one of us off the hook very easily about an explanation..."</p><p>Molly groans. "I'm going to freshen up. Behave, and no more spilling the "tea" on our relationship behind my back."</p><p>"Okay okay, I'm sorryyy." he whines.</p><p>Molly rolls her eyes and wanders to the bathroom to freshen up. Moments later she can hear the gleeful chirp of Mrs. Hudson's excitement and the clink of a breakfast tray. She chuckles to herself and combs out her hair, making sure that all her hair is off Sherlock's special "curl comb", which is really just a regular comb but dark blue. She waits a few moments before the landlady's steps recede back down the stairs, and she pops back into the sitting room.</p><p>"You! You...You left me out here with her all alone on purpose!"</p><p>Molly laughs. "Maybeee."</p><p>"Unfair. Ugh she was incessant Molly. Utterly."</p><p>"Eh, she loves you."</p><p>"She loves us."</p><p>"First vote of approval then. Good."</p><p>"Very." he chuckles. "Now come sit and have some breakfast with me. You like blueberry scones? How come I didn't know that?"</p><p>"Yes, well, I like Mrs. Hudson's. You know most couples learn about each other as they go, right? They don't just...deduce everything, Sherlock."</p><p>"Hmph." he scoffs.</p><p>Giggling, she sits on the sofa and takes a bite of her scone. "I like when you learn something new anyway. It's like I'm surprising the un-surpriseable."</p><p>"I am not un-surpriseable. Just...a few paces ahead usually."</p><p>"That's the same thing!"</p><p>"Ugh, fine. But I'm still fun."</p><p>"Mhmm..."</p><p>"I am! I am fun!"</p><p>Molly laughs. "Okay, yes, you CAN be fun."</p><p>Sherlock pouts cutely then pops the remaining half of his own scone into his mouth. Molly finishes shortly after and drinks half of her coffee. "I've got to go Sherlock. Mike will be furious."</p><p>"Mike? Furious?"</p><p>"He's a nice man, but still my boss. Plus, I've got to get home and shower and change."</p><p>"Okay." his bottom lip sticks out into a pout.</p><p>"Solve your case." she smiles and goes over to him, kissing him softly. He eagerly returns the kiss. "I'll see you soon. Have a good day."</p><p>"Mmm...okay, you too. I...I uh...love you."</p><p>Molly beams happily and blushes. "I love you too. See you." She puts on her jumper and shoes, then grabs her coat and purse. She snatches her keys out of the pocket as she jumps into her car and drives towards her house.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>That evening Molly is finishing up in the lab and sanitizing everything. She gets it squared away and heads back through her office to the morgue when she sees a man standing at the doorway crying.</p><p>"Sir? I'm Doctor Hooper. How can I assist you?"</p><p>The man sobs, his eyes a bit puffy and he wipes his nose with a tissue. "I-I came to see the body of my son. Th-they said he was killed in a car accident and that I h-had to identify him. Oh God...please don't be him. He's only sixteen."</p><p>"Would that be Jason Aldren?"</p><p>He sighs shakily and nods weakly. "Okay. If you could just follow me, I can take you to him. I'm very sorry to hear what happened."</p><p>"He's only sixteen...dear God...please...please..."</p><p>The man follows her into the morgue and she has him stand near one of the body bags. "I know this is very difficult for you. If you have any questions at all, I'm here to answer them."</p><p>"Thank You..." he chokes out, sniffling.</p><p>Molly nods and leans over to unzip the body bag. Suddenly she is yanked back hard by her ponytail and the man's large hand covers her mouth. Molly tries to scream and struggle, but his height and weight overpower her as he locks her arms behind her back and slams her forehead against the refrigerator compartments. She thrashes as best she can and tries to kick him, but he knocks her legs out from under her with one of his own, his hand still squeezing her face. Feeling the cold hardness of the morgue floor under her knees as she buckles and hits them forcefully, he again slams her head into the compartments, disorienting her so she can't see straight. Molly feels a sharp, painful stab into the side of her neck and lets out a pained but muffled howl, unable to escape him. Tears stream down her face in terror as the room blurs beyond recognition and her world fades to black.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Sherlock paces the flat and looks over all the information he has compiled on each suspect according to age, town, rank, and gender, but still nothing sticks out to him. He growls in frustration and throws his pen across the room. John walks in slowly and makes a "What the hell is wrong now?" motion with his arms.</p><p>"Nothing John! There is NOTHING! Aside from the fact they worked in or near Bart's there is NOTHING about these disappearances that follows a pattern. They are all seemingly random people taken from the same place. But that's impossible. It's not random, the world is rarely so lazy. There is SOMETHING somewhere. WHY CAN'T I SEE IT!?" he barks out loud.</p><p>"Okay, Sherlock, calm down. Maybe you just need to move the information around again. What we know is that there IS a pattern or a point, so all you have to do is find it."</p><p>"This case should have been simple, John. I'm slipping."</p><p>John scoffs. "You are not slipping. You're Sherlock bloody Holmes. There's a pattern, so find it!"</p><p>Groaning, Sherlock rips the papers off the corkboard he is using, for the fifth time and sighs. "Not age, not town, not rank, not gender. What else...what else..." he mutters and looks down at the information.</p><p>"Maybe it simpler? I dunno...maybe you're wanting it to be clever and that how they're making you fumble?"</p><p>"Simpler? Oh...ohhh...John, you're a genius!"</p><p>"Uh, no. But I'll take that as a roundabout compliment."</p><p>Sherlock runs over to his laptop and types unrelentingly until he suddenly stops. They aren't finished. This is their way of telling us they aren't finished John."</p><p>"With...kidnapping?"</p><p>"Yes! with kidnapping, don't you see!?"</p><p>"No Sherlock, as always, you WILL need to explain here."</p><p>"Look John. Just LOOK." he exclaims, handing him his laptop.</p><p>"These...are the tabs you showed me before. The locations where they were working. I thought we knew that already."</p><p>Sherlock groans. "No, no REALLY look. Simpler."</p><p>John shoves the laptop back at him. "Enough, just tell me."</p><p>"Not pattern John, patternS. More than one. It's not the location."</p><p>"Then what is it?"</p><p>"THE location."</p><p>"Jesus Christ, can you not speak in tongues??"</p><p>"We were looking at the location within the location. We only needed to look face value, not deeper. We ONLY needed the base location. The story or floor number of the hospital that they disappeared from. Not the exact desk or spot they worked from. That's our mistake. You were right. It was simpler."</p><p>"Right...so then the floor numbers correlate to..."</p><p>"To their rank. Each floor they kidnapped someone from had a person of a higher level or department than the last. You see? The Cop, the Doctor, the Receptionist, the Construction Worker, the Lunch Lady. The story they were taken from correlates to their rank. Lunch Lady is the cafe, first floor. Construction Worker, near the bays, between the first and second, so let's assume second. Receptionist, third. Police Officer had a detail working near the near parking garage, so probably around the fourth floor, and finally the doctor on the fifth floor. The thing is, there's six."</p><p>"Six floors? Since when?"</p><p>"Since always John. It's just not counted as a numbered floor. Picture the elevator buttons."</p><p>"There's one through five and then..." he trails off. "Sherlock..."</p><p>Sherlock looks over at him. "Hm? What...go on."</p><p>"Sherlock, I know you haven't gotten to the end of your train of thought yet, but I'm not quite sure you want to..."</p><p>He furrows his brow. "The buttons. There are floors one through five, and then the basement level which isn't numbered. Obviously, they're going after someone on that level next. They must have a pretty big rank, because the basement level is a bit tricky. It's like a hidden gem. But that's crazy because the only person who works down in the....oh. Oh...no. No no no..." Sherlock's entire being seems to drain of blood as it dawns on him.</p><p>John swallows. "The only three useable rooms right now in the basement level a-are the lab, and the morgue...and Molly's office. Dear God...Sherlock she's next."</p><p>"The hospital mortician...could be considered the biggest rank of them all...definitely the hidden gem, the hospital couldn't keep up with fatalities if she was no longer there...it would cause chaos..." he murmurs, seemingly detached for a moment and steepling his hands under his chin. "Works for and with nearly every department, will always be needed, never out of a job, one of the most brilliant staffers of most city hospitals, single-handedly processes every demise, not to mention helping to solve murders that happen outside the hospital walls..."</p><p>"Sherlock." John says firmly. "We have to go."</p><p>His eyes snap to John's and he can see the sheer panic, fear, and doubt in Sherlock's eyes; but the most troubling thing John can see is raw emotion. You would think this would be welcomed, however with this usually comes a breakdown, and that is one thing they did not have the time for right now. Sherlock needed to focus.</p><p>"Sherlock." John gently but firmly puts his hands on his friend's shoulders. "I know you're panicking. But we must get to Bart's. Okay?"</p><p>Sherlock swallows and nods sharply, swooping over and quickly pulling his coat on, barreling down the stairs and out the door. It had long since stopped raining, but dark clouds remain looming ominously over the city. "Taxi!!! Taxi!!!" Sherlock screams, nearly running around in the middle of the street. Not good.</p><p>"Sherlock!" John quickly pulls him back by his coat as a car nearly misses him. "Hey! This isn't helping! You could've been killed! Just...try to relax. We'll get one."</p><p>Sherlock mutters to himself and rubs his face as his hands shake a bit. John knows he needs to just get them to Bart's. The last thing he needs is for Sherlock to pay a junkie so he can shoot up, as he does in times of hysteria. "Just. Stay." John demands, pushing him back to the sidewalk. "Don't move."</p><p>Moments later, John hails down a cab and waves Sherlock over. Sherlock shoves people out of the way and lunges into the back seat, John following.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Sherlock runs faster than he ever has before, nearly slamming into the elevator doors when coming to a halt proves more difficult than he calculated. John groans, paces behind and finds him pacing and fidgeting when he finally catches up. He pants and tries to catch his breath. "Look...I'm sure it'll be alright. She's probably doing an autopsy or something, right? Don't freak out."</p><p>Sherlock attempts to steady his breathing and he feels sick. He can't remember the last time he felt this sick except for when he was in Sherrinford, and this time it's worse. <b><em>"Sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side"</em></b> he can hear his former self sneering at John. This isn't him. This is sentiment for Molly Hooper. Sentiment for his girlfriend. For the love of his life. For the woman who counted, who mattered, who never fails to save him from himself. The kind that can cloud judgement and make him lose control as he did when smashing that coffin to bits. He couldn't help picturing her in there that day, and it drove him mad. He CANNOT lose her; he wouldn't survive it. Through criminals, murderers, terrorists, Serbian torture chambers and chains, the Golem, and everything else that has held Sherlock dangling above the clutches of death, forcing him to stare into the face of his mortality, losing Molly Hooper would be one thing he would not survive.</p><p>John sees Sherlock staring at the wall as if he is in his mind palace, but he is stiff as a statue. His breaths are ragged and uneven, though not from the previous sprint he ran. His hands are still trembling below his chin and John sees the animalistically protective side of Sherlock standing there, trying to regain control. The same version of him that John had seen after the dismantling of the fake bombing of Molly's home in Sherrinford and smashing the coffin to pieces. <b><em>"This is vivisection. We are experiencing science from the perspective of lab rats."</em></b> he recalls Sherlock mumbling, clearly pained from what took place in that cell.</p><p>The elevator doors open and Sherlock walks in, looking almost robotic. John joins him and the ride down to the basement level in silence. John knows he is nowhere near as intelligent as Sherlock, but it occurs to him that Mycroft had said then that Eurus is an era-defining genius--beyond Newton. Somehow without ever meeting Molly face to face, she knew that Molly loved him. In fact, she had only ever seen Molly for about thirty seconds when she had showed up with an ambulance to take care of the drug addled Sherlock Holmes from his (murdered) therapist's office. John recounts the events in his head again and begins to believe that just maybe, it wasn't about Molly's feelings, but about Sherlock's.</p><p>Mycroft made it known that all the challenges Eurus put them through related to Sherlock and how he worked. Mycroft has a good track record, but he gets things wrong too. John's eyes widen a bit as he thinks. <b><em>"It's for somebody who loves Sherlock"</em></b> Mycroft had said about the coffin lid. But could it be possible that was not the point at all? When John was forced to bury Mary, Mary did not have a say about what was written on her gravestone. So why would Molly have had a say over what was written on her coffin? She wouldn't...which means that really it wasn't for someone who loved Sherlock. It was for someone that Sherlock loved. Does Sherlock really /love/ Molly that way? Is that why he snapped when John suggested Irene? It must be. Plus, Eurus's comments when Sherlock claimed to have "won" the challenge seemed to mock HIS emotions and what she did to him, more than what had been done to Molly.<b><em> “You didn't win, you lost...look what you did to yourself, all those complicated little emotions, I lost count. Emotional context, Sherlock. It destroys you every time." </em></b>Hell, even Mrs. Hudson told Mycroft that Sherlock was a feeling intellectual, not a thinking one. That surprised John at the time, but now he thinks that she may have been right.</p><p>The ding of the elevator pulls John out of his thoughts and he takes a deep breath, nudging Sherlock out of his own. They make their way down the dim, familiar hallway that they have visited many times, stopping at the double doors of the morgue. Sherlock is conflicted between barging right in and hesitating, anxious about what he would witness.</p><p>John looks at him, knowing this is difficult. Especially with his supposed newfound knowledge of the depth of Sherlock's feelings for the small pathologist. "Sherlock...soldiers..." he says affirmingly.</p><p>"Soldiers." Sherlock says with a steely, monotonous tone.</p><p>As they enter the morgue, Sherlock scans the room. He can feel the rush of panic start to arise from the depths of his chest again as he takes in the half open body bag, the tools still set up, and the new and obvious (he KNOWS that wasn't there before) ding in the metal of one of the body fridges. His eye wanders to something red near that particular fridge and he takes five gigantic paces towards it, leaning down and picking up the small, shiny object. Molly's earring. The one that matches her favorite cherry jumper. John walks back into the room, even though Sherlock hadn't noticed he had left.</p><p>"She's not here. Her office and the lab are empty but..."</p><p>"But her belongings are still here. She didn't lock up; she didn't clean or organize...John she's in trouble." John could have sworn he heard Sherlock's voice crack, and he holds up a small object. "Molly's earring. Small scuff marks on the floor, the ding in the metal, the state of her work area. All signs of a struggle. She's gone John. Oh God, she's gone." Sherlock twirls around the room aimlessly, his level of hysteria building. "Molly!? Molly!!!" he yells out in a terrified manner. "She would NEVER leave these rooms unlocked or unattended. She would never leave a corpse out. She would never just leave like this, not on her own!"</p><p>John's face drains of color and he is bewildered as to where to even begin to look. "They didn't leave any clues?"</p><p>"This is all we get for now." Sherlock does his best to hold back tears, trying to stay strong, to be the soldier he knows he has to be. He texts Mike back and forth about the situation. "Mike's going to handle this state of disarray..." he says softly, going into Molly's office and collecting her coat and purse. Her phone is still tucked away in the pocket. "She doesn't even have her phone John...we can’t ping it." Sherlock looks at him brokenly. "I don't have an answer this time…I-I..." he looks around frantically again.</p><p>"Sherlock...I know this is hard. I know you care for her deeply. We all do. I know we'll find her. I think the best thing we can do right now is to go back to Baker Street and see if the kidnapper contacts you. That's what they always do. They always want to gloat, or they have demands." John sees the same man standing there that he did the day they made a visit to Culverton Smith. The panic, the franticness, the uncontrollable doubt, the self-hatred. Thank God this time he was lacking the high to act on self-harming impulses. "You have gotten through some of the most difficult shit anyone in the whole entirety of this fucking world has had to. You have escaped death countless times and you're still here. This is one more of those times. You have to keep going."</p><p>"I know that John! This is Molly. It's MOLLY!"</p><p>"Yes, it is. Which means you have no room right now to shut down. So let's go, and let's take this step by step. For Molly."</p><p>"For Molly..." his voice shakes and he rubs his face. Grabbing her possessions, he walks out with John. Sherlock's icy resolve has been turned into a puddle in front of John's eyes.</p><p>If ever he had seen Sherlock at his worst, at his most broken, at his rock bottom, nothing compared to the version of him that stood before John right now. This was a man that paralleled the type of grief that only John had ever been thrust into. This was a man who was capable of love, who was expressing the pain of losing the love of his life. This man is Sherlock Holmes, but a completely different version of him that John had never seen, despite the multitude of versions he HAS seen. This was the version that only ever existed in the eyes of those who knew Sherlock as a young child that pranced around dressed up as a pirate. The version that freely expressed unadulterated emotion, even more so than most 'ordinary' people. The version that was tucked away in the farthest, darkest, most locked away corner of Sherlock's being after losing Victor, after feeling like he had failed in the worst ways possible. This was Sherlock's heart, and it has never made an entirely full appearance until this very moment.</p><p>Once the elevator doors close, Sherlock stumbles into the corner and collapses into a withered heap, his body trembling with fear and the total absence of confidence. John can only do what Sherlock had done for him as he grieved his wife at Baker Street. Try his best to comfort him in his time of need. So as best as he could, he did just that.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Lionel and Sebastian stride into the sitting room of the Manor, laughing together. "Ahh that was easier than I thought. I should have become an actor! She's a feisty little thing though, fun to handle. She won't wake up until the dirt is good and set. I'll pay our handy dandy henchmen and the party will start. Sherlock Holmes will get next to nothing for clues, as he is clearly expecting, and he will get to watch his little lovebird shrivel away into fertilizer. Today is a GREAT day for revenge, Lionel! I'm just glad the rain let up. Would've put a bit of a damper on our timeline. However, I do hope she's grateful for the amount of headroom. I did take some pointers from Jim's little meeting with Eurus. He was such an information fiend, did you know that? He just put it to such good use that you'd never know he knew in the first place. Absolutely brilliant, my Jimmy was. Sexy man too. God, I miss that."</p><p>"You've nearly pulled it off Boss. Congratulations. He would be proud."</p><p>"Nearly. The final rally will be had once she's confirmed to be no longer of this world Li. But it is so close I can TASTE it. Just wait until Holmes gets our present!" he squeals like a child receiving a gift. Laughing, he pours himself a drink and sits on the sofa.</p><p>Lionel smirks. "One hell of a gift, sir."</p><p>"That it is, my dear protege. That it is. Oh, I saw my little Jaime boy earlier today by the way. Taught him how to rip the heads off of those lanky Barbie dolls. Not much, but he is just a baby. He will learn the ways of our enterprise in time. I'll be thrilled enough if I am around to see him take over. He's going to be a fantastic stand-in for me. I hope our legacy will continue to grow in ways the Holmes one never will once this pathetic mouse is dead. Do you have the live feed set up and running so we can monitor?"</p><p>"Yessir. Everything is all ready for viewing, and Holmes' cell has been successfully hacked to receive your messages at any point shall you choose to send any by phone."</p><p>"Absolutely perfect." he smirks evilly.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Molly feels herself drifting, almost as if she's on smooth sailing boat. Her stream of consciousness slowly begins to reel back to her like an extra-long fishing line, bit by bit, causing ripples of awareness. By the time she reaches proper feeling in her body, she realizes that her entire form is aching and throbbing. Groaning weakly, she opens her eyes slowly. Or so she thinks she has. She stares into pitch darkness, completely dazed and confused, lingering in the void between actual awareness and freeform drowsiness. She blinks slowly a couple times and for a moment she wonders if she has gone blind. Molly reaches her hands out and they unexpectedly hit something very cold and very solid just inches above her body. Gasping, she quickly realizes she's inside something. Molly screws her eyes shut, willing with all her might for this to be a nightmare, screaming at herself internally to wake the fuck up, but it fails.</p><p>After a few more fleeting moments, she gets vivid recollection flashes in her mind of what happened that day in the morgue. The crying man. The body bag. The torment of her assault, struggling with the bigger man, her head coming to blows with the casting of the fridge and the resounding throbbing, her dwindling attempt to fight him off to no avail, his hand across her mouth, his force weighing her down to the floor, the painful impact of her kneecaps on freezing tile, the smashing agony of him beating her head into the metal once again, the very sharp, blunt prick of a needle, and the familiar burn of her hot tears on her face; weak, helpless, disoriented, terrified. The same burning tears and feelings she has at this very moment.</p><p>Horror finally setting in, Molly hits the hard object above her over and over in an attempt to free herself. She screams for help but her voice malfunctions into soft gasps and squeaks. More tears rush down her face as she pounds on it harder and harder entering sheer panic mode. Pausing, she takes a deep breath to force herself to remain calm and she feels her surroundings. Her heartbeat is like a gong in her ears when she realizes the sides of her are just as limited as the top. There's only one possible petrifying, surreal, psychotic explanation for this.</p><p>After the life she has lived, the things she has overcome, and the hope of finally /finally/ being happy with the man she has loved for years, Margaret "Molly" Louise Hooper: age thirty-three, single, beloved sister, cat-mom, girlfriend, and friend is almost assuredly going to die.</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. The Evil Art of Vivisepulture</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Molly's disappearance shakes Sherlock to the core, especially because of their newfound relationship. Things take a turn for the worse when he realizes her disappearance is part of an evil plot being used to incite revenge against him.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sherlock stumbles into 221B and immediately collapses into his chair, erratic and distraught. He tries his best to calm his breathing, since the huge gulps of air are not helping his major panic attack in any way. He could swear he hears John speaking to him at the same time, however all he can make out is the blood rushing through his ears and the pounding of his pulse in his head. Molly Hooper was gone, and it was because he loved her. He wishes he could take everything back, to go back to how they were before Sherrinford. He wishes he could have been kinder, but wiser; to not fall in love with her. <b><em>"Sentiment is chemical defect found on the losing side"</em></b> his egotistical and cold voice from the past repeats over and over in his hazy mind. That's why he had been so slow on this case when it was something so blatantly obvious, John pretty much solved it. He was slipping--no, more than slipping. Feeling and thinking cannot go hand in hand, and this was the final proof. The proof is losing Molly...losing the love of his life because he had decided to feel. The thing was, his worse self knew better. How bittersweet. Sherlock presses his fingertips into his temples and groans in mental pain as a million thoughts of self-hatred and loathing rush through his brain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John had stopped talking a while ago, noticing that Sherlock was clearly in no state to listen or even hear anything that he was telling him anyway. He decides to give him space for a moment and go check their mailbox, positive that the kidnappers will send SOME sort of demand or letter to tease Sherlock, and grabs the stack of mail, smiling softly when he hears Rosie giggling within Mrs. Hudson's flat. Taking the steps two by two, he goes back into 221B and sifts through the large pile in his hand. Bill, bill, bill, letter from Harry (great...), bill, thank you note for Sherlock...damn. No demand letter yet. Setting the pile on the desk he goes over to where Sherlock finally seems to be breathing normally again, his eyes still squeezed shut in a milder form of panic. "Sherlock, they always contact you. They will. I may not be a consulting detective, but I have a good feeling they will. That's what criminals do. They gloat. We both know that by now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock growls angrily and glares up at him. "I don't care that they are going to contact us or if they are going to gloat. I don't even care if they ask for millions. I will rip them limb from limb the second I find out who they are. I don't give one single fuck if I go to prison. NOBODY touches her and gets away with it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm scared for her too. I know it's different for you because she helped save you multiple times, because she's a great confidante, because some cases wouldn't have been solved without her expertise, and because she always sees whatever the hell you need at the moment. You can always depend on her. But what you cannot do right now is lose your head. She's too important right? Right now, she is depending on you for once. You need to get it together."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're so wrong..." he says weakly. "Everything you said, it's true but it's not the whole of it, John. You don't understand yet."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then talk to me. For Christ's sake, get on with it so you can find her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love her, John."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, no shit Sherlock."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No...I mean, I LOVE her. I-I'm...with her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John blinks rapidly, shocked as to what words have just blessed or cursed his eardrums. "I'm sorry...what? You're with her? Like...with her? But…how?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, we are...were...dating. Trying it out, at least. I know I can't possibly be what she needs but I was willing to try. I knew it wouldn't end well. I KNEW something would happen. Why don't I ever just listen to the horrible side of me? It's usually right, even when it's wrong. Yes, I'm a complete arsehole, but loving someone DOES make you a loser. Just look...she's in danger just because of me. Just because of her connection to me. If I had let it go and never told her the truth..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She would have been destroyed as well. Molly loves you more than I think you even realize, you cock. I think she's good for you. She keeps you straight, always has. Doesn't take your bullshit. One the best things I like about her. I admit, I never saw Molly as your type per se, but then again, I didn't really see anyone as your type. So there's that. Hell..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Neither did I, remember? But over the years and everything we have been through, just seeing her for who she is instead of being too full of myself enlightened me. I went through my mind palace and recalled every single time she has been there and...John, there were times I didn't even acknowledge her, and she single handedly saved me from the dark depths of myself. Moriarty would have killed me if I didn't have Molly Hooper. I had been so awful to her when she did not deserve it. However, despite my ignorance I always found myself irritated by her companionships, and annoyed when anyone else needed her help. I know it's selfish, but I am a selfish person, you know that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You were. You're getting better, though. So, what's our next step. Nobody has contacted for ransom or just to piss you off?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nothing. Nobody."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right, so..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock's phone pings loudly and he clamors for it, quickly looking upon the screen. His face turns back to hatred and fear from the calm he just had while talking about Molly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sherlock...what is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallows the lump in his throat and gives the phone to John as if it would burn a hole into his hand. John peers down at it. "Jesus, no..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right there in the center of the screen was a message. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>{I have your new pet. She's quite fun to handle. I always thought of murder as a game, a game I always win--and in a way it is. Always fun. However, this isn't just fun. This is revenge. Revenge you have awaited and seen coming for years now. I WILL have mine. You're getting nothing. No clues. No hints. Enjoy the show, because I know I will relish every fucking second of her moribund. Good word huh? Everyone always saw me as the brawn, but I always had a particular fondness for vocabulary. My favorite person in hell may have had something to do with my new love for it. You know what other word is super cool to say? I learned it indirectly from your sister, among other things.  ~Vivisepulture~. I think now it will be my favorite.}</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John tries to hand it back. "Sherlock...what...there's a link here too..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face is drained of all color and his lip curls with the raw madness John had only seen during their trip to Dartmoor, and when trapped in Sherrinford. Sherlock tries to bring himself to speak but can't seem to get the words out. Pure rage and pure brokenness battle for dominance between his expression. The only thing he can manage is "Eurus..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Eurus? This is her?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't be stupid!! Of course it's not her!" Sherlock snaps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John crosses his arms. "You said Eurus. What about her?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She gave him the idea" his voice breaks. "Indirectly, as he said. Oh God...no."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John outs the phone on the arm of Sherlock's chair. "What idea?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't you see??" he growls. "Vivisepulture, John."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, okay, am I supposed to know what that is?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock gives him a look of raw defeat. "The art of burying someone alive" he croaks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John's jaw drops and he shakes his head. "No...they can't...they wouldn't...oh my God. Sherlock..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's a play on my destruction. A game. Eurus' coffin game. Not fake this time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John grabs the phone again and quickly clicks the link, bracing for whatever horrors lay encoded in it. "You need to look. Whatever this is, it could help up find her maybe. We NEED to find her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlocks entire form trembles, but he tries to keep it under control. "Five hours…that's all we have. There's no clues this time. They don't WANT me to save her. They want to watch her die. They want...me...to watch her die." his voice cracks again in pain. Seconds later he stiffens, hearing his Molly's strained and weak voice emitting from his mobile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>John tears up, holding it so they both can see. It's a live feed. Darkness. They can only make out the form of her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Help..." she cries weakly, her voice a whisper. A smashing noise follows. She's hitting the lid in a veiled attempt so someone will hear her. "Sh..Sherlock...someone…p-please h-help me!" she tries her best to yell louder but ends up gasping for breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock is reduced to a muddled ball of every emotion, one after the other as he tries to hold on to the strongest part of himself. The only problem is, he does not know if that's his brain, or his heart at the moment. "W-we don't know how long she has been in there John...she could have a couple hours."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sherlock, think. THINK. Where could she be? Who could be doing this??"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I already know who..." he trails off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well I don't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Moran. Sebastian Moran."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The terrorist??"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock sighs and rubs his face. "We got it wrong. I KNEW it was out of character. John, Sebastian Moran is..was..Jim Moriarty's sniper. His very own "pet" so to speak. Jim and I had a mutual understanding of being emotionally detached geniuses, but that there was a fact that we were still human. That we needed a bit of "ordinariness". </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, he made fun of you being my friend at the swimming pool when he tried to blow us to smithereens, how does this help??"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He was letting me know he had one too...at the time I thought he was teasing but no...he knew."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm lost."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Gay. Remember? The first time you saw me treat Molly terribly. I told her Jim was gay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, and I told you it wasn't kind. Even if he was..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So don't you see?? Moran was his pet. They were "together", John. This is his revenge for Jim's death. I'm to blame for him blowing his brains out. I took his, so he's taking mine...because I have one now. That's what he was waiting for."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, but he's in prison for the terrorist attack on Parliament."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, that's where we got it wrong. They wanted us to think that they were both out of the picture, out of the way. I told you once during a case that it was never twins. In this case, it is. Moran blackmailed his twin brother Sullivan into playing his part in the terror cell. When it was assumed to be Sebastian, nobody thought otherwise and nobody corrected us. He's a hardened criminal, a master sharpshooter, an army vet like you. I regret to say he is a slightly better marksman than Mary was, he never misses a mark unless he means to. Like a backup plan, Jim gave Sebastian reign over his network, even though he was adamant that I wouldn't survive. With Jim dead and Moran supposedly out of the way for us, we wouldn't have been expecting this. I can't believe I was fooled AGAIN. First Eurus, then this. Jim gave Sebastian all of the info he accrued from my sister, and he used that to plan this as revenge for Moriarty's demise." Sherlock grimaces. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So Moran has been free and planning to ruin your humanity whenever it strikes you that you loved someone. All because his boyfriend was wrong and deranged and believed if he had to die, you had to as well."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Exactly. Now he has Molly, and he doesn't plan on having me save her. He wants me to watch her die, like he watched Jim die. I told Molly before and now I'm telling you. The one person he thought didn't matter at all to me, was the one person who mattered the most. She was pivotal because she's the one who saved my life. Moriarty got it wrong. He didn't even think about her regarding me. He didn't even account for me needing her; for her saving my life. He saw how I treated Molly in the lab that day he met me, and he never ever thought that she would matter to me. Moriarty truly believed I would die along with him. Sebastian was positioned to kill you if I didn't jump, and he would not have missed. Two other lackeys were positioned on Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson. Sebastian is correcting Jim's mistake by taking the woman Jim didn't think mattered to me, who turned out to be the love of my life...because in his mind, I killed the love of his."</span>
</p><p>
  <span> "So..if he's alive and can't have Jim...you're going to be alive and he's going to take Molly from you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He wants me to know how it feels. I'm not going to let that happen. This isn't Molly's fault." Sherlock turns back to the feed and tears up at Molly's pleas that are getting softer and weaker, her breaths getting heavier as she struggles for oxygen. "Call Lestrade now. Tell him to get every man on the force for this, tell him we need every single cemetery, every single field, every single speck of open land in London searched."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sherlock..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"NOW!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, alright I am! But think okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am thinking, I'm always thinking. He practiced five times. He enjoyed teasing me. THAT was Moran gloating. The five missing workers. Trial runs..." he mutters. "There didn't have to be any directly distinct patterns because it was practice. They all came from Bart's because again, trial and error. Different levels of security, different types of people around, different times of day. They had the technique perfected. No doubt used a sedative as well, determined how strong to make the dose...but they had to have inside information and know about our-- ...ohhh...stupid...STUPID idiot!" Sherlock sneers at himself, then jumps out of his seat and frantically steps over the furniture as always, searching the room. He finds over four mini cameras placed in discreet locations. "They saw and heard everything..." he clenches his jaw in anger, creeped out that his and Molly's intimate moments were deviously broadcasted. "Tell Lestrade to get Sally and the tech crew down to Molly's house. No doubt there are cameras in there too. Just another damn idea they used from Eurus. They hacked my phone, most likely Molly's too. Tell them to take everything and anything relating to technology from her house. Including chargers and wires."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John nods and talks to Greg in the corner of the room, trying to explain what's going on. "Look, please just do it. Tell them to take every piece of technology, every wire, every cord, every camera they see in her house. Per Sherlock."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lestrade paces in his office his expression worried and terrified for poor Molly Hooper. "Yeah, John, got it. Dear Lord, we must find her. We will find her. Tell Sherlock to stay strong. I know he likes to pretend he's tough, but we all know he's really a teddy bear. Oh, and John? Remind him how much she means to him...sometimes he doesn't quite see it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Believe me Greg, he sees it clearer than ever now. I can't explain now, but take my word for it. He knows."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good. I always figured he needs a good woman like her. She's a toughie, but Sherlock needs that sort of direction, yknow?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, yeah. We'll keep you updated. Please call us if your team find anything suspicious. We will be looking too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course, we won't stop searching until we find her. You have my word. Goodbye."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John hangs up and looks over, seeing Sherlock gently caressing his phone as if he could comfort Molly through it. A pang of sadness strikes his heart, knowing how it feels to be helpless when the woman you love is in so much pain. He refuses to let Sherlock lose Molly the way he lost Mary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock sniffs and takes a breath. "Soldiers..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Soldiers." John nods tightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's go. I assume Moran buried the other five people as well...but he's purposely trying to be random. I have no idea whether they are buried in close proximity or in different places for the fun of it. John...I feel like I am completely blind this time. I-I don't know what to do. I have never been more unsure or more scared than I am right now. I-I can't let her die..." his voice lowers to a whisper as they hail a cab.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know Sherlock...we won't let her die. We are going to do our best."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My best isn't always good enough..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It is for Molly. Always, ok? You'll save her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She doesn't even know if I'm looking for her John! What if she thinks I'm too busy to notice that she didn't text after work, or that she's even gone??"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sherlock, if anyone has the most faith in you other than me, it's Molly. Especially now. She knows that you love her, that you would do anything to find her. She knows."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hop in the cab and Sherlock bounces his leg irritably, watching the screen. Molly had passed out for the second time since he started the live feed. Goddamn Moran. Sherlock is definitely going to rip him limb from limb if he ever lays eyes on that sack of shit ever again. His phone dings and another message appears on the screen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>{Tsk tsk Sherlock, only about ninety minutes of oxygen left. He always told you he'd get you. I O U a fall. There's no recovering from this. Take my word for it. This is what you deserve. Watch the life leave her body and her pulse stop. Watch her last breath escape from her lips thinking you forgot about her. Like she was unwanted and unappreciated by you yet again. Watch her wither into rotten, maggot filled flesh knowing that there was nothing you could ever do to save her. That when it comes to her, you FAILED. You will never find her. You will never save her. Your efforts are for naught, Holmes.}</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock screams and throws the phone to the floor of the cab, shaking more than before. John picks it up and reads the message, angry as well. "Sherlock he's trying to throw you. He's trying to keep you like this. You can't let him, okay? Just...just...you have to keep your cool. You must. I know its hard, I know this is destroying you. But you have to, for Molly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock looks out the window and quickly removed a tear that is running down his face. He has never felt more betrayed by his own mind or his own heart in his life. He has never felt this desperate, even when it was driven by an extreme need for a high. This is her, his Molly, his pathologist, his woman. Molly would never hurt a fly, and she has been hurt by people more times than he can count, yet she keeps her kindness and her warmth. It's like her superpower because he cannot imagine how she is able to do that. She's everything good in his world and he cannot lose her...he won't survive. He can't live in a world with no Molly Hooper. It can't come to that, she deserves happiness for once, she deserves a future of endless sunny possibilities, not this. Not after everything she has lived through to get here. If Sherlock fails, he is not one for this place anymore either. Moriarty will get what he wanted from the start--mutual death. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. "Grave" Danger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock, John, &amp; Lestrade desperately search for Molly's burial mound. Mycroft is consulted to help. The evildoers celebrate the deterioration of Sherlock's prowess due to his feelings for Molly. Many connections come together to slowly undo their plot.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>John quickly follows Sherlock around the first cemetery they visit. It seems as if he is going a mile a minute. John knows he usually has a bit of trouble keeping up with Sherlock's long legs, but this is ridiculous. They have been through nearly every row already. "Sherlock! Wait up. Hold on a second." John shouts to his friend.</p><p>"We don't have time to wait, John! She's dying! Doesn't your simple damn mind understand that?? She's dying!"</p><p>"Dammit, listen!" John grabs his arm and pulls him back. "I know you are panicking, and I know you love her. But what you are doing right now, running around like a chicken with your head cut off is certainly not doing anything to help her. You need to take a minute and think. I may be simple, but I can keep my cool a bit better than the average person. I was a soldier. So just bloody listen to me for once."</p><p>"I don't know what to do...I always know what to do. She could be anywhere, John."</p><p>"Well, I think, unfortunately, it's time to bring in the big guns, so to speak. We clearly need help here, and the only person I can think of that would be able to help is your brother. You need to let Mycroft know what's going on. He has eyes all over the city remember? Maybe he can find something that would be useful."</p><p>Sherlock groans in frustration. "Alright...if it will save Molly, I'll try it."</p><p>John nods. "Good. I'll keep looking around, and you give him a call."</p><p>Sherlock whips his phone out of his pocket and speed-dials Mycroft. "Please pick up, you wanker...just pick up.."</p><p>"Hello, brother mine. What may the nature of this call be?"</p><p>"Mycroft..I.." Sherlock begins, his voice trembling and then he clears it.</p><p>"What have you done, what's the situation?" Mycroft asks, sounding concerned.</p><p>"Molly...Molly Hooper. She's been kidnapped by Sebastian Moran. He bloody buried her alive, Myc! I can't find her and she's dying..please..help me. Help me find her."</p><p>Mycroft furrows his brow. He knows that Sherlock calling him Myc is a code word he uses when a situation is the highest level of dire. "Where was she last seen, Sherlock?"</p><p>"Work..uhh..Bart's morgue. They took her from there. There was some blood and her things were still in her office...God, Mycroft /please/. I can't let her die. If I have ever owed you anything, I swear I wouldn't more than I do right now."</p><p>"I will check the security footage and access the license plate of any out of place vehicles that were in the vicinity. I will have my men infiltrate your homeless network in a matter of moments, as some of them must know something. I'm sending out the jobs as we speak. We should have an idea as to her approximate location within the half hour."</p><p>Sherlock breathes shakily. "Thank You.." he says brokenly.</p><p>Mycroft's heart breaks for his little brother, knowing full well that he loves this woman, even without hearing it from his own lips, but he keeps his official composure. "No need. She's an asset to our crime solving network, as you have put it so eloquently before. Oh, and Sherlock...I..."</p><p>"I know, Mycroft. No need to get all sentimental for me, it's really not your strong suit. Just find Molly."</p><p>"Of course."</p><p>A second later the line goes dead and John walks back up to Sherlock. "There doesn't seem to be anything out of place here. We should head to the next one. Have you heard from Greg yet?"</p><p>"Who..--oh..Lestrade. No, not yet so I assume they have been unsuccessful as well. John..what if.."</p><p>"Don't even go there right now. We will find her, we will save her. You have to be the confident egomaniac that you usually are."</p><p>Sherlock smiles weakly at the joke. "Yes...I guess sentiment really is found on the losing side though. I've never been this thrown. By anything John."</p><p>"I know...we just have to keep going and hope that Mycroft will come through. If anyone can help the most, right now it's him."</p><p>They walk back to the cab and hop in, driving to the next destination on the list that Sherlock had made on the way there. "There's over 141 cemeteries in Greater London...how can we possibly choose the correct on in time when Moran is purposely randomizing?"</p><p>"We have Lestrade, his whole team spreading out and we have Mycroft and whatever crazy network he has which, according to you is a gigantic scale of power. Sometimes what you need is just...hope. Molly needs that right now too."</p><p>Sherlock watches his mobile intensely as Molly squirms, once again awakening. Her breathing is extremely labored, and she has gone quiet. Sherlock knows she is trying to conserve as much oxygen as possible. Molly is very smart, after the initial panic and fear, she realized that even if they were close there is no way that they would be able to hear her.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>"I want an update every 5 minutes if not more, is that understood!? I don't want it a SECOND late. Spread out, talk to everyone in the Network, I want every single security system ran through with a fine-tooth comb extending at least ten miles out from Saint Bartholomew's Hospital and Dear God, SOMEONE attempt to track down Moran. It has come to my attention that he is not the man sitting in the prison cell. He's behind this. Now GO!" Mycroft barks to a room of government workers and they scuttle out to do what they are best at.</p><p>Elizabeth Smallwood goes over to him and sighs. "It's terrible that this happened. I hope we can find her Mycroft. I know she is a dear confidante to your brother." she gently places a hand on his arm soothingly and Mycroft takes a breath, patting her hand.</p><p>"If we don't, I fear that my brotherly companionship will take a thousand steps backward to where it was years ago. We both know the difficulties of having him too far out of reach. I have gotten him to trust me again and to depend on me when things need to be done in an official capacity, however cocky he is about it after the fact. I won't lose him again. The loss of Doctor Hooper would surely mean the loss of my brother and I won't let that happen.</p><p>"That's surely understandable. I know you try to keep your stoicism by saying it's because you are always the professional however, I do hold on to the belief that there is a heart inside of you. You may say you protect him for the sake of London, but you also protect him for the sole fact that he is your little brother. You can say I am wrong, but I know I'm right." she smirks a bit and pats his arm.</p><p>Mycroft huffs a bit and rolls his eyes. "Well, at the very least I know you'll never tell. You've seen what happens to those who are disloyal."</p><p>"You know you never have to worry about that with me by now Mycroft. We have been working side by side for over two decades. Please, I should be offended at the implication."</p><p>He raises an eyebrow. "Offended? By my wordy whims? I should think you would be attuned to those by now at the very least."</p><p>"That I am but mutual respect is important as you well know. You may have everyone else fooled that you never have outbursts of brotherly compassion, but everything you do for him, is, in fact, an outburst of such."</p><p>"He is an asset to London. The crime rate has gone down at least a percent with his consulting, and I need to keep up with him to efficiently do my job."</p><p>She chuckles. "Oh, you fool. You keep up with him because you love him. You'd never tell though, but believe me he knows. It may not be a very Holmes-like emotion, but it's very obvious. You of all people should recognize that. It's also returned. You two bicker like you're still small children being scolded by your mummy. It's quite funny to see you converse."</p><p>Mycroft furrows his brow and fiddles with his umbrella. "I may have underestimated your quick wit and observational prowess Mrs. Smallwood. If I have ever looked over your skill, I must apologize."</p><p>"I know you, Mycroft Holmes. There's no need to explain. To everyone else you may seem to complex, but to me you're simpler to know than you think. I have, as you remember, been a confidante to you for ages."</p><p>"As you are."</p><p>"As I am." she grins and kisses his cheek. He blinks quickly, processing. "Oh, don't flip. You won't die of it and there's no mark." Elizabeth laughs a bit.</p><p>Mycroft looks at her and an agent pops into the room with an update, tearing his attention away and to the pressing matter at hand.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>D.I Lestrade pulls up to the fifth cemetery and has heard from the other officers on the force that they have not had any luck with the other 10 they have visited yet. He rubs his face in disdain and goes with the two officers on his team to check the premises of this one.</p><p>Circling multiple gravestones, his worry line is apparent on his forehead. Nothing seems out of the ordinary as he weaves through a dozen, then two, then three, with nothing to show. He cares about Molly too, she's a very intelligent, beautiful, and kind woman, and he has been privileged to have been able to consult with her morgue for different cases.</p><p>Walking around to the entry gates of the cemetery, he sees a cab pull up and goes over to it, seeing Sherlock and John slide out of either side. Lestrade pays the cabbie. "Sherlock..we've got nothing yet. I'm sorry...I promise we are doing our best considering we are going in blind here."</p><p>"I know. I'm waiting on a call from Mycroft, he's got people who are working to track down Molly and find Sebastian." Sherlock sighs shakily.</p><p>Greg nods and places a hand on his shoulder. "We are all doing our best, I promise you. You have my word."</p><p>"Thanks Greg..."</p><p>He smiles slightly and nods. "You don't always have to pretend that you're invincible. I think everyone who really knows you, knows that you're just as human as any of us. You have a lot of people around that care, alright? Yes, I know you dislike conversations about feelings, but you do have a great support system. Nobody is without flaw and everyone has bad days. This is not your fault, regardless of your job. Moran is a vicious, cocky, terrible man. As clever as you are, he has outsmarted and outrun the government and the law for over two decades now. With the help of Moriarty, I have no doubt that he got even smarter and sneakier. But you ARE human, and Molly is a woman that you have known and worked with for years, and it's completely understandable that you care deeply for her. You are allowed to feel scared and vulnerable and unsure of yourself. Everyone gets that way, whether they bear the name Sherlock Holmes or not. You forget that I knew you as a younger lad. I know what can happen when you go unchecked and unsupported. But you are here, and we will get her back. We will."</p><p>Sherlock clenches his jaw and nods, holding back the tears that threaten the brim of his eyes. "It's become more than that Lestrade...and because of that, she's in grave danger and I have no leads to go on. Not one."</p><p>Greg looks at him and squeezes his shoulder, remembering the sickly thin, dirty, drugged up boy he had found on the city streets of the heart of London fifteen years ago, when even he was young. He recalls discovering the brilliance of his mind behind the brokenness of his spirit. The young man he gave a chance to and introduced to the crime fighting community. The boy that had quickly hardened with the discovery of his excellence until he was no longer that broken child, no longer a prisoner of his inner pain. Greg hugs him, knowing that the boy he has repressed for so long is coming to the forefront, mourning for the woman he loves with the heart the has left inside of him after years of physical, mental, and emotional attacks from criminals.</p><p>Sherlock stiffens for a moment then hugs back, also thinking back to the first time Lestrade found him and made him into the success he is today. "I am sorry..." he mutters weakly, hoping the phrase will be taken as its meant to be: an apology for everything he has said and ignored from Greg over the years.</p><p>"Shh..you know by now that's not necessary. I'll always have your back. You're like family to me. I know I never said that, but finding you in that alley changed my life for the better. I am so glad you discovered yourself Sherlock. You have done more good for this city than almost anyone. You have. I've never doubted you, even with possible reason, and I never will. You are a good and an extraordinary man." he replies, as he pats him on the back.</p><p>Sherlock peers down at his phone sadly, seeing Molly's dark form rise and fall slowly with her weak breaths. "She doesn't have a lot of time left...she's counting on me. If I can't save her, what use am I?"</p><p>John pipes up. "Sherlock, enough of this. You need to step up and stop wallowing. Just think. If she is this important, you need to think, not mope. We are on a time crunch. I am glad that you feel for her, and that you are more in tune to your feelings, but she needs you right now. You don't want to have any regrets."</p><p>Sherlock nods and sighs. "Right. Okay, so. Next on the list?"</p><p>"Kensal Green"</p><p>Lestrade nods. "I have a unit, so I'll drive. Let's go."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>        </p><p>Lionel comes down the stairs to loud music coming from the main sitting room. He leans against the doorway arch and lays his eyes on the sight of Seb dancing around the room and singing. He is shirtless and a bit sweaty. Moran catches his eye and smirks. "Come on Lionel! Jim always said, you have to have fun while working or else it's not worth a fuck!" he grabs the bottle of whisky that's on the table and takes another swig. "What a day to be alive! I wish he were here to see this. He would be sooo thrilled...God I miss him. But ALAS, Li, ALAS, we move on. All I had hoped for was his revenge and I am just about MINUTES away from completion. Ha haaa!"</p><p>Lionel smirks and chuckles a bit. "It's been awhile since I have seen you enjoy yourself this much Boss. Then again, it's usually on a bad day... Exactly how many bottles /have/ you gone through?"</p><p>"Ugh don't be such a little bitch Li! You're not my keeper. Three, I think." his laughter roars throughout the large room. Get me a cigar, won't you? It's celebration time!"</p><p>He goes over to the cabinet and pulls out the box of King of Denmark's. He takes one out and replaces the box, walking over to Moran and placing one between his lips sensually, smirking. "Yessir."</p><p>Moran locks his eyes onto his. "I need a spark.." he says deeply. "I believe you have one, Mr. Foley."</p><p>"That I do, Master." He grins and slips a lighter out of his pocket, lighting the tip of the cigar for his boss.</p><p>"Mhh, pity it was the lighter. Here I was thinking you were happy to see me."</p><p>"Who says I'm not?" he murmurs.</p><p>Sebby puffs his cigar and smirks, lowering his gaze downward. "On the rare occasion that I am wrong or mistake a detail, I usually get some enjoyment from my overlook."</p><p>"Well then it's my pleasure to say you were quite mistaken then."</p><p>Sebastian smirks devilishly and roughly slams Lionel against the nearest wall. "Your pleasure eh? Care to elaborate?" he puffs smoke into his face, their faces extremely close.</p><p>"Always, Boss."</p><p>"Just remember, I am the tiger, you are the main course." he takes a long drag of his cigar then offers a drag to Lionel, who takes one eagerly.</p><p>"Yes, Tiger." he moans as Moran wraps his hand around his neck.</p><p>"That's what I like to hear, Lion. Let's celebrate, shall we?"</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Sweating profusely, she feels it slowly sliding down her temples from her brow. Molly feels weaker than she has ever felt, and she drifts in and out of consciousness. Her eyes well up with tears again, afraid that she will never get the chance at a life she has dreamed about for ages. Her little brother comes to her mind next and a sob escapes her. After losing their dad many years ago, the last thing she wants to happen is for him to come home from the war to news that his only loving family member had been murdered. Her death would crush him, she raised him since he was ten and they are close. "I need to take care of him like I always have--I can't leave him too. He's going to need me." she internally scolds herself. Molly takes a long but slow breath. "He needs me..." she murmurs. "Matty needs me...I can't die...just breathe Molly...slow and steady." she thinks to herself. "Sherlock...please find me. God please help him find me..."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Mycroft speaks with multiple agents about possible leads in Molly's disappearance and burial. There is one particular lead that especially stands out to Mycroft, a familiar name from the past popping up as the supposed witness.</p><p>"Agent Harlow, tell me this is not a joke. That you have a straight line to speak with him immediately."</p><p>"I do, sir. He came forward due to the nature of the incident and the connections he has to the victim. However...manipulative and false it was on his side."</p><p>"I guess it's good that even terrible people have a conscious on occasion. Get him in here NOW. We don't have any time to waste and make sure he is secured. We know the type of people he works with ad we don't need them finding out that he's become our sniffer dog, or he will disappear as well."</p><p>"Yes sir. I have already set up an incident team to collect him and bring him here. He wants immunity for his cooperation, however voluntary it is."</p><p>"Fine. But only if it leads to her being collected ALIVE. We can dole out the legalities later, the threat of expiration for this woman is imminent and we information NOW. I don't care how they do it, just get him here within the next three minutes."</p><p>Agent Harlow nods sharply and exits the room. Lady Smallwood enters and taps away at security footage. "He's most definitely using Moriarty's IT team. Not one of them were captured on CCTV. Damn them."</p><p>"Pay no mind anymore. We have motive to believe there is an end in sight to this nightmare for my brother. We have hooked ourselves a gigantic bass, Elizabeth. We are not going to let him get away without knowing Doctor Hooper's whereabouts. A guilty conscience will always be the eternal torture of the demons in this world, their humanity will be the bane of their very existence when they aren't as far gone as James or Sebastian. This particular one got himself in a bit too deep on his last mission and now feels some sort of personal responsibility for this heinous act of evil."</p><p>"May I ask by what name this martyr goes by?"</p><p>Mycroft turns on his heels and spins his umbrella in his hand. Does Weston ring a bell to you?"</p><p>Her eyes sparkle and a small smirk appears on her face. "Mr. Weston...I must say, I never expected his loyalty to falter for a moment after what he did the last time. Although I did begin to believe he had some sort of humanity towards the end of his last mission. Blood is usually thicker than water though. Being Moran's cousin, and growing up around them he trained young and is very good. Not nearly as good as Moran himself, but good nonetheless. If you can even say the accuracy of a sniper is a good thing."</p><p>"Interesting. Who would have thought anyone sharing the blood of a Moran would have a conscience? Just maybe the love of an interesting mind and dare I say, a good heart, could turn almost any man."</p><p>"Even yours?" she smirks, flirting with him.</p><p>"There is a reason I said /almost/ any man, Lady Smallwood."</p><p>"You may fool anyone else, Mycroft Holmes, but never me."</p><p>"There is always a downside to having a mind of countering brilliance as a confidante and second in command. It is just another cross to bear, I suppose."</p><p>She chuckles. "You still owe me that drink."</p><p>"As you will never let me forget."</p><p>"Never." Elizabeth smirks, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she looks out the window, overcast skies drifting in a depressive manner. "Ah, he has arrived. Approximately 15 seconds to spare too. I'll get the conference room and the guards set up. I assume you will want to speak with him directly, due to the nature of your relationship with the victim's...er...more-than-friendly pal."</p><p>Mycroft rolls his eyes. "He always was the emotional one. Ghastly, isn't it? Such a shame. I'll meet you down the hall. I will be briefed by Agent Harlow in the foyer and they can bring him in the back. We need to keep this as quiet and under the radar as humanly possible."</p><p>Elizabeth nods and quickly makes her exit. Mycroft straightens his suit coat and takes a shaky sigh, undertones of doubt seeping from his relaxed demeanor. "Into battle." he murmurs.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>"I can't believe she isn't fucking dead yet! It's been nearly four and a half hours! She's smaller than average, she should not still be breathing, never mind muttering to herself!" Sebastian growls angrily. He is draped across his sofa with only a sheet around his waist.</p><p>Lionel returns to the sitting room in only boxers and grabs an apple, biting into it. "Jim always said she was a feisty one, ain't he? It won't be much longer, Boss."</p><p>"I have been patient for far far far too long! When we first figured out that Jimmy had made a small miscalculated error, we tried to fix it, and instead we softened one of our best men due to this bitch. Luckily, I was able to toughen him up again with some training that mentally broke him down to where he used to and should be."</p><p>"You know what they say about dysfunctional families, Boss. Nearly everyone has one. You got him back, blood is thicker than water, yada yada yada."</p><p>Moran smirks and traces over the small 'S' he had carved into Lionel's skin just over his heart. There is still some blood seeping from it as he smears it with his finger. "Definitely thicker than water, but also more colorful, more enticing."</p><p>Lionel grimaces and chuckles. "Aren't I the lucky one? The Boss's pet."</p><p>"Don't get used to a straightforward compliment, however you are the most enticing of my minions. Jimmy chose me, and I chose you. You should be eternally grateful to me, Lion."</p><p>"Always, Tiger. Until my dying breath, be it by your hand or otherwise."</p><p>Sebastian smirks evilly. "Danger is sexy, exciting. Revenge is the ultimate high. Do you have the guns ready? I'd like to go for some target practice later. Of course, I don't need it, but murder is fun. You just never know who is going to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, do you? Unlike Jim, I used to enjoy the random killings as opposed to the planned ones. But, running a network and having enemies, obviously planned ones are a necessity."</p><p>"Are you going to visit there again?"</p><p>"In honor of Jimmy, once this whimpering excuse at life is extinguished, absolutely. In honor of James."</p><p>"That's understandable."</p><p>"I did love him, you know. As much of a devil as I am, and whatever that is to a man like me. At first it was all whirlwind infatuation and the obsession with the danger, the blood, the screams and the cries and the begging of our victims. But that was the turn on I suppose. The ultimate power is the power over life. The power to take everything and reduce it to ash. I know I grew on him too. We would never say it, but we both knew." his jaw clenches.</p><p>He continues, "Then Sherlock Holmes showed up, rivaled us, saved some of them even and Jimmy was more infatuated in beating him, in destroying him. I did beg him not to die. Like a little bitch, I begged. However, life wasn't enough of a reason for him to stay. He was utterly convinced that in order to burn the heart out of Holmes, he HAD to kill himself. He could make more trouble in hell than he could here. I should have known he was right. He knew I would get revenge for him, right the wrongs. Told me that if Holmes died with him, and he was reduced to being a fraud and a traitor, that was the ultimate demise. If he didn't, he had a backup plan with Holmes' demented sister, which as we both know played out perfectly; allowed me to be able to complete phase four, the final phase. Phase One was Reichenbach, Jim's death. Phase Two, if Holmes somehow survived, was the infiltration of my dear cousin, a shoddy and crumbling plan but it worked in other ways to heighten his implicitly delicate bias towards her. Phase Three was Sherrinford, Eurus was nearly as thrilled as he was to play her part and get her own revenge. And here we are at Phase Four, the burial of the woman who dared choose and save Holmes repeatedly, who KEEPS getting in the way. She's a fucking obstacle that NEEDED to be dealt with. If we get our way, Holmes would rather commit suicide for real this time then lose her. We have reduced him to nothing but a stupid, ordinary man. Pain, heartbreak, loss. Three things Jim promised him repeatedly. I wish he were here to see it. Sherlock's emotions are finally getting to him, paving the way for us to have our fun in London again."</p><p>Slipping a button up onto his shoulders, Lionel grabs the guns and begins to load them until they are full. "He was a force to be reckoned with, Boss. I had the ultimate privilege of being ordered and trained under his rule. You always sparked my interest however."</p><p>Moran smirks. "Don't be a fucking suck up, you prick." He returns the smirk and tossed Seb his fully loaded revolver, of which he immediately points back at him.</p><p>"Are you posing for a photo, threatening me, or is this foreplay?" Lionel murmurs teasingly.</p><p>"All of the above." Sebby laughs devilishly.</p><p>"Ever the unsated, Boss. I admire your stamina."</p><p>"That's not the only thing you admire, Lion. You love the hunger of the Tiger, I am not the only one who is insatiable."</p><p>"Only for you, Boss. However, I think the sexiest thing in the room right now is the woman on the iPad who just stopped breathing."</p><p>Moran sits up, and snatches it from the table, watching for a moment before laughing as loud and as pleasurable as he ever has. "YES! We may have just done it Lion!!"</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Faces From The Past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Time is nearly out for Molly, but she may just have a bit of hope when an unexpected face from the past shows up to give much needed clarity to the case.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>A black vehicle pulls up next to the bus stop where a tall, lanky man looks distraught. His hands are fidgeting with his phone and he is pacing. He gets into the back of the car and thinks about everything he has put Molly Hooper through, albeit the harsh consequences of not terrorizing her. Her loss would surely weigh on him for the rest of his life if he didn't do this. He just wishes that he did not have to go against his family and the entire franchise that he was raised to carry as his legacy.</p><p>His mind flashes back to Jim Moriarty's reign with the help of his cousin, Sebastian. The only thing he had in common with that psycho was the fact that they were both twins and trained snipers. However, Moran was an identical twin, unlike him. The skinny man remembers how much his brother wanted to please their cousin and the Boss. How he would have done almost anything for the recognition from them. That when Jim gave him the chance, he took it willingly. </p><p>Kidnapping two orphans? That was a no brainer, even for Teddy. The thing that haunted him even slightly is that he had to lace their candy with mercury to slowly kill them. His brother definitely had the work ethic of their mother. Plus, it didn't help that with only blue contacts, Teddy could turn himself into the dead-ringer for Sherlock Holmes, the enemy Jim was trying to destroy. Then again that was the entire point, that's why Moriarty needed him. He should have seen it coming but he didn't; the execution of his twin brother wasn't necessary or part of the plan. Moriarty killed him for /fun/ when his supposed "usefulness" ended. All because Teddy was too enthusiastic and driven. Too "perky" according to the old Boss. Thank God he was the only one who carried the secret knowledge that Molly had used his brother's corpse to get back at Jim and his cousin. Smart, using it as a placard on pavement for the real Sherlock Holmes to fake his death and destroy at least the Middle Eastern portion of the Moriarty-Moran Criminal Enterprise. Hooper was always an incredibly brilliant woman.</p><p>He looks out the window of the car and bounces his leg nervously, knowing that the Holmes/Baker Street Squad were just as intense as his own family; they just use their own intellectual prowess for the good of the free world instead. "I'm fucked" he mutters under his breath and sighs. "But this is for Molly Hooper, so I must."</p><p>Holding his coat tightly around his thin form, he slips out of the vehicle and is directly apprehended into the arms of two armed guards. They lead him down many long and echoing hallways until they reach an official looking interview room with cameras. Many, many cameras.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Mycroft walks into the highly secure conference room and lays his eyes on the disheveled curly- haired minor acquaintance that had flown under the radar for far too long. He stiffly sits in the chair across from him and stares him down as he has countless other times to other criminals and whistleblowers.</p><p>"Ah, the illustrious Thomas Weston. Son of the malicious, late, Victoria Moran-Weston. Speak, and quickly. It had better be good."</p><p>"I-I-..." he sighs and rubs his face. "Look, I know my family has a reputation and I would never under any other circumstance throw them under the bus, but this is Molly. Contrary to popular belief, I have more of my father in me than my mother, and I guess I always have. He was a kind and simple man that my mother killed once he no longer served a purpose. As you know, my mother was the sister of Lord Moran, the first generation. I am the cousin to Sebastian. Jim Moriarty and Sebastian killed my brother Theodore after his first mission with them...he kidnapped those kids and helped them convince people Sherlock was a fraud.</p><p>Anyway, I did have real feelings for Molly Hooper. She was -is- an incredible, intelligent, sweet, funny woman. The type of woman who would be the most amazing wife and mother. However, my cousin found out about how deep I had fallen away from their plot, to infiltrate the Baker Street Squad and report back to them using Molly, since she was close to them but not /too/ close. They wanted me to get Molly pregnant to continue the next generation of our criminal enterprise and then kill her, as most Moriarty-Moran's do one there is no use for a normal partner anymore. Except, I didn't because I did love her. They found out that I was planning to tell her the ugly truth about my family because the family she met was fake, paid; and I wanted to go away with her and keep her safe. To have a real family. Not one based on lies, murder, cheating, and torture. But Sebastian threatened to kill me unless I broke off the engagement, so I had no choice but to do just that. He always gets what he wants, and he surely would have murdered me with no remorse, as he had my brother. I don't think Molly was as crushed as I wanted her to be about me breaking it off. She took it well, and tried to seem hurt, probably for my own sake, but then again I always had the notion that she was in love with your brother first...that's why I tried to dress like him. My brother was more of the dead-ringer though..." he begins to ramble with nervousness.</p><p>"Unimportant, tell us about the plan! NOW!"</p><p>"The plan was to bury Molly alive in a similar coffin to the one Eurus teased Sherlock with to get him to show his emotions. They practiced on five other people...I-I believe they are already dead. Moriarty never included her as one of the people Sherlock cared about or loved because of the way he used to treat her when he was around. But when he died, Sebastian realized that he made a mistake and that Molly was the person that helped Holmes survive somehow and they did in fact love each other in a way, and he was furious and vowed to kill her to show Sherlock what it was like to have your heart ripped out. Jim had told Sherlock he would "burn the heart out of him". My cousin, however evil, was in love with Jim. Who we all know was even eviler and viler than my cousin." he takes a shaky breath.</p><p>"The last I heard about the plan, when I was eavesdropping, is that they buried her in Highgate Cemetery in the grave above Adam Worth. He was Jim's most favorite idol; The Napoleon of Crime before him. I think it is a nod to the fact that it is revenge for Jim's suicide. They believe it is Sherlock's fault. You must believe me though...I cared deeply about Molly. I never wanted them to take it this far...but they...they had already beat me next to death after falling for her when I did. Please...save her. There may be no hope for me, but she deserves happiness finally."</p><p>Lady Smallwood looks at Mycroft who nods and she rushes out of the room to alert New Scotland Yard. Mycroft brings in an officer who handcuffs Tom.</p><p>"Hey, I care about her, but the deal was that I would be exonerated!"</p><p>"You may or may not be once she is found alive and home safely, is that understood? You are in absolutely no position to seek leniency, nor did I sign anything to that effect with a lawyer. IF by chance she is found completely unharmed, alive, and will not sustain any lasting injury or effects, maybe JUST maybe, you will be granted some leniency." He turns toward the officer. "Get him out of my sight."</p><p>The officers yank him away towards their vehicle and Mycroft goes to his office as quickly as his feet will carry him there, knowing every single second counts. He grabs the phone and dials Sherlock's number with shaky fingers.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>"Yeah, got it. I'm going now!" Greg and Sherlock shout into their phones in unison. Sherlock takes off running to the police car, Greg and John rushing after him. Lestrade jumps into the driver's seat and Sherlock and John into the back.</p><p>"Where is she??" John shouts.</p><p>"Highgate Cemetery...it's a cruel joke to them." he snarls and then screams at Greg him to "JUST DRIVE!" as he presses the gas hard.</p><p>"I AM Sherlock! I am going as fast as possible without losing control, I want her safe too!"</p><p>Sherlock peers down at the death grip he has on his phone and his face drops. "She's not moving anymore, she- she..she's..I don't think she's breathing anymore, PLEASE GO! Faster!!" he yells, not caring who is listening as tears begin to fall down his face. At the moment he doesn't even care about keeping up appearances. All he knows is that Molly, HIS Molly, has stopped breathing and there may be a possibility that she never will again. It'll be his fault, just as Mary's demise was. Utter terror strikes his very soul. He can't be too late...he just can't.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Sebastian staggers around the room quite drunk, but invigorated. He's laughing like a hyena and wearing only his gray boxers. Lionel gets up and slips on his own, chuckling and sweaty. "I take it today is a very good day, Boss."</p><p>"The best day, Li! The best! Look at this, LOOK!" he shoves the iPad into his face. "We won! She's dead! She's actually dead, no longer breathing, expired, late, worm food, fertilizer, any way you want to say it AND I will have officially destroyed Sherlock Holmes. He will FINALLY feel my pain and my rage. He will know what it's like to have his heart RIPPED OUT and BURNED! This is one of the single most joyous days of my existence! Jimmy is rolling laughing in his grave I bet. Oh, how he would love this. Finally. After everything he went through, FINALLY!"</p><p>Lionel laughs and takes a swig of whiskey. "Congratulations, Boss."</p><p>"She's been around the bastard for too long. Been too much of an overlooked asset. I'm more than thrilled to be done with her, and with her the demise of the famous detective shall soon follow.”</p><p>“We will have free reign of the city again, the way Jim and you had before Sherlock Holmes came along in force.”</p><p>“It will be absolutely murderous.” He snickers mischievously. “Jim always had a point. You can just look out and see all these miserable little humans with all their useless emotions and their pointless lives, devoid of actual invigoration, adrenaline, power, genius. It’s always fun to put them out of their own misery. They are nothing. Sherlock Holmes took everything from me, he climbed directly over me and took over Jim’s every whim and thought. This is my ultimate revenge.”</p><p>Draping an arm around his neck Lionel grins and peers down at the iPad, upon which is the live feed of a the very much still Margaret Louise Hooper.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Mary Watson stands near the beautiful array of flowers near a big oak tree, beneath which lays a coffin containing her best friend Molly Hooper. With a full but saddened heart, she waits for her friend to arrive in her realm of existence. After another few moments, a breathtaking orb of glowing white light appears next to her before fading into the form of her friend. Mary smiles, giving out the appearance of hope. “Molly…fancy seeing you here.”</p><p>The last thing Molly remembers is sweating heavily and the horrible pain of suffocation, led by pitch darkness. Now she just sees white, until it slowly fades. She looks around at the elegant sight of nature around her, and she takes what seems to be a large, refreshing breath of fresh air. An aura of total calmness and peace takes over her body, leaving her confusion behind—for the moment. Suddenly she hears her name and turns to recognize the face of her beloved friend Mary. This time she looks more real, /seems/ more real. There’s no glow or transparency to her. She gives Molly a small smile, but there’s an unsettling undertone to it. She knows Mary enough to read her well, and Molly’s peace is again replaced with confusion. “Where..um..where are we exactly? Or should I say me? Or…are you in my head again?” Molly looks at her confused and worried.</p><p>Mary feels the utter sadness in her gut at the sight of how her friend really, really has no idea what has happened to her yet. She knows that she has to tell her the news. “Molly…” she starts, slowly.</p><p>“No..no, Mary. You sound like Sherlock. Please don’t talk to me like I’m a small child. Your voice dipped…please don’t tell me this is a voice dip, guilt sort of conversation…”</p><p>Mary swallows a bit and continues. “I know you’re not a child, but you’re my best friend. What I have to tell you is going to be difficult and I don’t know how you’re going to react. I suppose I should start with no. I’m…I’m not in your head. Not this time…”</p><p>Molly’s brow furrows and she looks even more confused. “B-But...you’re dead. How can you be here? My head hurts…” she rubs her temples.</p><p>“I’m not. I’m not /there/ with you. Instead, you’re…here…with me…” she trails off, feeling guiltier by the second, even though she knows there was nothing she could have done to prevent this. “Moll, you uh…” she takes a breath and gently hugs her arm. Molly gasps at the feel of her friend’s touch. “You died…” Mary’s eyes well up a bit with tears.</p><p>Molly looks into her friend’s watery eyes for what seems like forever and she can feel herself crumpling. How could this be? How could she be dead? She /knows/ how she /could/ be dead…but… “Oh God..” she chokes out. “I-I died? I’m dead??” she squeaks out, her voice already giving up on her as her emotions take over and her eyes fill with tears. Mary wraps her arms around her in a soothing hug, just holding her. Molly weeps into her friend’s shoulder, in disbelief. “No..I can’t..I-..please I can’t be..” she sobs, utterly broken.</p><p>“Oh sweetie…” Mary sniffs and rubs her back gently. “I’m so sorry…I’m so so sorry. I’ve got you, I’m here for you. You’re not alone.”</p><p>Molly cries and looks at Mary, tears staining her cheeks, the stream from her brown doe eyes seemingly never-ending. “Thanks for being here for me…I don’t know what I’d do if you weren’t here. I-..I’d have no idea.”</p><p>She smiles sadly. “Moll, I’m your best friend. I’ll always be here for you. I promise.”</p><p>Molly sniffles and takes a shaky breath, wiping her face before her eyes fill with tears all over again. “You were alone..oh Mary…nobody was here for you when you died.” She hugs her tightly again.</p><p>Mary returns the hug and sniffles. “I didn’t have my friends, no. But when you die, everyone has a guide that helps them process it. I did have someone, it was just…a kind stranger. You’re supposed to let them take you to...peace.”</p><p>“But you didn’t go...” Molly says knowingly. “Rosie and John.”</p><p>“Exactly. I can’t ever bring myself to leave them for good. I want to see her grow up. I want to be there for all of you still. It was my choice not to go, to remain a ghost. But Molly, you are the kindest and sweetest and most incredible friend. I think you’d be an incredible angel. I just think you should wait a while to decide…Sherlock is on his way here of course. I have no doubt he will do his very best to save you. We all know miracles happen with that man around. Hell, he restarted his /own/ heart. In lieu of sounding super corny, I’ve realized that love can make almost anything happen. People have lived for love, died for love, and survived for love. From what I’ve seen with you and Sherlock recently, he absolutely loves you. He is going mad right now at the thought that you’re lost. It’s breaking him in ways nobody, not even his brother, has ever seen. I know you love him that much too. Plus, time goes a lot slower out there than it does here. It’s a thin veil, but still different in ways. It takes some getting used to.”</p><p>Molly looks down sadly. “I think you deserve to be an angel as well, but I understand your need to see your family. Completely. I don’t know if I should wait Mary…maybe he would be better off without me. I don’t want to break him. I don’t want to ruin him. I don’t want him always having to save me from evil people like this. That’s no type of life to live, and I know he was content long before he discovered his feelings for me. I just want him to be happy. I know finding out that I’m gone will hurt him…I just hope he can hold onto all that fierce strength he has to get past it and not fall deep into self-destruction again…all the drugs and the manic depression...” A few tears ricochet off her cheek.</p><p>“Molly he got past it before because he had you. You can’t just give up. Let him try to save you. Please let him try, /please/.” Mary begs. “As much as I love this time with you and we would have a lot of fun together before you go -up there-, I want you to have a good life before this. You deserve the happiness of all life can give you, if anything life /owes/ you for everything you’ve been through. Also, you may not know it, but Sherlock has always needed you. Whether it seemed it or not, you have /always/ been the person who kept him grounded. Even when he was an utter prick way back when you first met.” She smiles softly. “That’s one interesting thing about being dead. You know everyone’s memories. I know the pain you’ve been through, the heartache, the longing, the loss. I also know how proud you were when you became a doctor of your own merit, when you saw your little brother off to war, when you won all your medical awards, when you became Sherlock’s lab mate, when you became a bigger part of his life and made more friends because of him, and more recently all the love and hope you felt from him. So please…just…wait and see. Have hope. Let there be a chance regardless of how small of a chance it may be of him reviving you. You deserve that sliver of chance.”</p><p>Molly cries again softly and wipes her eyes. “Okay. For Sherlock, and for Matty. I do want to be there for them. But I suppose I have something to lose either way now, don’t I?” Molly looks at her brokenly. “If he does revive me somehow…I wish I could take you back with me.” Her voice cracks and her lip trembles a bit. “How is that going to seem to John…that’s not fair if I get to be saved. You deserved that too.” Tears flow down Molly’s porcelain face yet again and begin to fall down Mary’s.</p><p>“You can tell John about this if you get to. If you remember. But I’ll always be here…I’ll see them, even if John no longer sees me, and Rosie stops seeing me when she gets older because she won’t remember. I’ll be here for them, always.” She sniffles and wipes her tears. “Because I love them. More than anything in the entire world and no matter if I fade away from John’s heart or memory and he moves on, or if Rosie grows up with a stepmother and never knows me. I know they were once mine, and I’ll still be in their hearts. That’s all I can ask for.”</p><p>Molly hugs her gently. “You think John will move on? He still misses you…”</p><p>“I know he does, and I think a part of him always will…but..yes. He’ll move on. She’s a lovely woman. Her name is Caroline. He hasn’t met her yet, but when he does I hope that void in his life will feel fulfilled. She’ll probably be a better role model for Rosie than I would have been anyhow, what with my history and all…but John deserves to be loved for life, just as Sherlock does by you. You know he’ll never have anyone else but you.”</p><p>Molly blushes a bit. “He may not get that chance, but I’ll stay hopeful. You’re a very strong person Mary. Rosie is a very lucky girl for having you as a mother. I hope she grows up to be like you.”</p><p>Mary smiles sadly. “Thanks, Moll.”</p><p>“You’re very welcome. I’m worried about how horrible I’m going to look when they dig me up. Isn’t that the dumbest thing to be worried about? I’m not vain but..I mean, it’s Sherlock.”</p><p>Mary chuckles a bit. “We’re women. I’d worry about that too. Luckily, love is stronger than our worst days. That man is head over heels, so don’t you worry.”</p><p>She turns red and bites her lip, leaning against the tree and closing her eyes, feeling the sun on her skin. “Isn’t it weird that we can still feel the sun? It feels wonderful…”</p><p>“You can? I can’t…well fully deceased people can’t. Molly this must mean you can still be revived! Oh my gosh” she exclaims, grinning.</p><p>Molly opens her eyes and looks at her. “You can’t?? I can? Wow…maybe. I hope so, mostly. If he can't bring me back, at least I'll be here with you for a while, and then I'll get to see my dad again..and my son, Declan" her eyes water and she fidgets with her hands.</p><p>“Oh Molly, I'm positive they don't want to see you here so soon. Plus, I'm sure your dad is taking amazing care of your little boy. Also, don’t you dare feel guilty about me Molly Hooper. Or I’ll haunt you” Mary smirks.</p><p>“I know, I still miss them though...and I’d expect nothing less from you Mary Watson” she giggles softly in reply.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>The car barely comes to a screeching halt when Sherlock hurls himself out of it, stumbling to the gates of Highgate Cemetery. John had called the groundskeeper, a very old man himself, during the ride there and demanded direction to the Adam Worth grave, which was reluctantly given. “Sherlock!!” John and Lestrade quickly follow suit. Sherlock turns and grabs John’s phone out of his hand and quickly scans the email from the groundskeeper, in a panic. Lestrade tells John that he’s going to go to the office and demand shovels; they’ll give them to him because of his badge. John nods and runs after Sherlock who has taken off like a streak of lightning down the rows of old stained gravestones, crushing some flowers that were in his way.</p><p>Sherlock can feel himself hyperventilating as he runs petrified of what he is going to find. Through the burning in his lungs and the numbness of his moving legs, his mind has only one thing within it: Molly Hooper. Sherlock Holmes knows only two things for absolute certain. Molly Hooper was definitely buried here (Mycroft confirmed as much from his source), and it had been undoubtedly at least four minutes since she had ceased breathing.</p><p>After what felt like a whole eternity, Sherlock nearly slams into giant oak tree near a fresh mound of dirt. He didn’t pay much attention to his own breathing, a huge mistake on his part, since suddenly he can feel John holding him up on one side and urging him to take steadier and slower breaths. His body is betraying him and he feels as if he had just stopped running after a marathon. “Mo-Molly…we…she...I have to…”</p><p>“Shh I know Sherlock, I know. Greg is right behind us with shovels. You can’t help her if you aren’t in any shape to help. Just breathe. You need to.”</p><p>Sherlock slams his fist against the tree, paying no mind to the pain it inflicted on his now bloodied knuckles and takes deep breaths. After just a few seconds he gets up and rushes over to the mound of dirt, getting down on all fours and pawing viciously at it, digging with his own two hands. Like hell was he going to WAIT any longer!</p><p>Greg rushes over with three shovels and hands one to John. They both grab one of Sherlock’s arms and pull him up to his feet. John immediately begins digging. “Sherlock, Sherlock! Hey!” Greg barks at him. “Look at me!” he grabs Sherlock’s face gently. His blue eyes are absolutely wild with fear and his dark curls a giant mess around his paper white skin. He looks like a ghost himself, a near mirror image of the helpless boy Greg once knew. “Focus! Look, shovel.” Lestrade places one in his hand. Sherlock yanks it away and digs fast and hard, working through the absolute burn in his muscles. Pain is temporary, losing Molly could be forever, and there was no way he could let that happen. Not even now. He would drag her back from the depths of heaven if that's what it took. </p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Mary and Molly watch as the men frantically dig up the coffin. Molly wants so desperately to tell Sherlock she’s right there, to make him see she is alright. To just embrace him and calm him down. Tears drip down her face as she watches him, he is completely undone. If he can’t revive her this may just be the very worst danger night he would ever have in his life, and the weeks after that too. She had done her best to help restore his breathing pattern to normal when he nearly collapsed into the tree upon arrival, but since she was only technically half dead, it only half worked. Now she just feels lightheaded and a bit like she’s floating. Her body suddenly feels exhausted, but not heavy and it becomes a bit less transparent to Mary. Mary squeezes her shoulder gently.</p><p>“They’re almost there Moll…just hold on as long as you can. I know it feels like you want to let go, but you can’t. Not yet, not now. You’ve come too far and they’re so close hon.”</p><p>Molly looks at her tiredly then peers down at her hands which look brighter and more defined than before. “I’m really dying, aren’t I? Permanently…”</p><p>“No, Molly. You hang on. Do you hear me? You’re so freaking strong. You must fight. Just keep fighting with everything you have inside you. You are a fighter. You always have been.”</p><p>Mary hugs her and holds her gently, feeling maternally protective. She knows Molly’s soul is getting weaker in the real world, and stronger in the spirit plane. Mary just might get her friend back forever and despite enjoying her company, the finality of that hurt even her too much to bear, knowing that Molly absolutely without a doubt deserved a full life. Unfortunately, by the look of her best friend, final death would in fact consume her momentarily.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. 1859</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock, John, &amp; Greg try desperately to rescue a no longer breathing Molly Hooper from her buried coffin.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Molly holds onto her best friend Mary Watson, feeling very weird for lack of a better term. It was like she was drifting between feeling present with Mary and floating. Her eyes water as she watches the scene in front of her helplessly; Greg and John digging quickly and Sherlock, oh, dear Sherlock, he was absolutely hysterical with fear, nothing like she has ever seen from him, and she has seen him in many dire situations. She gathers what she can of her dwindling strength and goes over to where he is digging rapidly, tears rushing down his face. Molly sniffs a bit and reaches out to cup his cheek, her hand unable to feel his hot skin beneath it. </p><p>"I love you, Sherlock Holmes. Whether you can save me or not. I will always love you. You've given me adventure and friendship, and quite a few laughs. You've given me understanding, and comfort, and even love recently. You are the best, most brilliant, caring, strong, and wholesome man I have ever met. I know you have a hard time seeing yourself that way, but I have always seen those parts of you. Even if this is the end for little old me, this will not be the end for you. You are too great and too needed, and you proved last time that London would mourn too much for you. Just please, for me, take care of yourself. Please..." tears fall down her own face as she witnesses their heroic feats. She knows they can't see or hear her but she's hoping there is a part of Sherlock that can sense her. </p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>As she wonders this, he stops digging for a split second and larger tears fall down his face. "Molly..." he whispers, his breath hitching in his throat. "Oh God no. Please no..." he chokes out and resumes digging frantically. "Keep going, we have to go faster!!" he yells at John and Lestrade.  They both peer up at him for a moment. "We are going as fast as we humanly can Sherlock!" John says tiredly. After a few moments, Sherlock's shovel hits something hard and he freaks out, calling both John and Greg over to help him dig around it, knowing that it is Molly's wooden coffin.  The trio shovels ferociously, eventually unearthing the small wooden coffin, a replica of the one that Eurus used to "destroy" Sherlock, less the " I Love You" plaque on the top. Sherlock gets down once again on his hands and knees and desperately tries to pry the lid off to no avail. His eyes scan the frame and find exactly what he was hoping not to; nails. The lid was actually nailed down. John and Lestrade have the biggest looks of pity on their faces. </p><p>"Greg, you have tools in the police car. Go and grab a pry bar now!!" As Lestrade rushes off, John kneels down with Sherlock and attempts to open it. Sherlock runs through a bunch of options including smashing it open (again) or shooting to splinter the wood, but quickly eliminates them due to the threat to Molly within it. "Molly!!! Molly! Can you hear me?? We're here! I'm here! We're going to get out...we-we're going to get you out!" his voice shakes.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>"He's so close, Moll. Just a few seconds more, alright? Look at me. You can do this. Just hold on." </p><p>Molly sits cross legged on the ground next to her coffin and Sherlock, and wipes her face from all the tears, looking over at her friend. "I can feel myself letting go...I-I'm trying so hard to fight it but it..it's taking over Mary. I can't stop it" her voice cracks with sadness, realizing for the first time with clarity that this is happening; that she could have to leave her life, and Sherlock, behind forever. "I can't stop it...I'm trying to fight. I'm trying to fight Sherlock! I'm trying so much" she cries. "I can hear you...I'm right here! Please I'm right here!" she breaks down in sobs. </p><p>Mary's eyes well with tears and she gently kneels next to her, watching her husband and their best friend try to save their other best friend from the very cusp of death.  She knows that Molly isn't doing well, and they could become too late.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Mycroft sits in his office and rubs his face, his heart aching for Sherlock; a feeling he is used to but not particularly fond of. He sighs and gets up, slipping a suit coat on, and then a lighter tan coat, grabbing his umbrella and pocketing his cell phone. Elizabeth sees him walking out and smiles. Mycroft remembers all those years ago when they were both fairly new. Her birth name is Alicia, however all government employees that work in highly confidential divisions use alternate names, so she settled on her middle name, Elizabeth. Mycroft had been cleared to use his own name only because of its pure uniqueness.</p><p>"Heading to the scene of the crime?" She questions.</p><p>"Yes. Despite the fact that my brother may not need me in his time of need, I have this inwardly jabbing and irritatingly unlimited sense of duty towards him. So...off I go then."</p><p>"I told you that you had a heart somewhere inside that mechanical machine of yours." she notes.  Mycroft gives her a small smile and she walks with him to the dark vehicle, hailing the driver. Mycroft nods politely to her and then enters the car. "Highgate Cemetery, and step on it." He sits in the back seat and twiddles his phone in his hands, hoping for the sake of his little brother that Molly Hooper was, in fact, going to be alive when they dig her up. He calls an ambulance to meet them at the cemetery since he was sure Sherlock was too scattered to think so far ahead. During the ride over, his mind drifts off to all the previous conversations he has had with Lady Elizabeth A. Smallwood.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>The cracking and splintering of the coffin wood can be heard loudly in the quiet spring air, along with the gasping and grunting of Sherlock Holmes, Greg Lestrade, and John Watson, all with thick metal pry bars in their grasps. Sherlock's hands are trembling the worst of all, the way they had when he was in a high stupor and nearly overdosing. </p><p>Sherlock hits just the right place in the edge and the lid lifts. In one swoop, Sherlock tosses it out of the way as if it were a bomb, then he sees her. His poor Molly. His Molly. His pathologist. His love. Completely lifeless. Greg and John gape at the sight and quickly help Sherlock lift her body out of the coffin and lie her on the grass. </p><p>She is wearing the same khakis and fluffy sweater she had worn to work that day, her hair in a side braid. She is drenched in sweat as if someone had thrown her into a river. Her body is cool to the touch and extremely clammy. Her sweet lips had gone blue, along with her fingernails. </p><p>Sherlock is frozen for a moment then breaks down in screaming sobs, cradling her limp form in his arms, and cupping her cheek. "Molly please! Molly! Molly please no! Oh God please no! Please come back! Please Molly come back, don't go...please don't go. I need you! Please I need you! Come back to life for me, please for me, please!!!"</p><p> Greg watches the scene frozen in shock, tearing up and swallowing the lump in his throat. John jumps into action, rushing over and feeling her pulse, trying his best to concentrate through his friend's grief-stricken pleas. He cannot, however, find a pulse on her wrist, so he checks her neck, finding none there as well. "Put her down!" John yells at him sharply. "Sherlock! Put her down, we need to do CPR!"</p><p>Sherlock's face is flooded with tears as he follows John's orders, placing Molly back down on the ground. "Pull yourself together, for her, Sherlock. Now. I'm going to pump blood for her as I compress down on her chest. Every six seconds, I need you to puff air into her lungs. Mouth to mouth. Can you do that?"</p><p>He sniffles and nods. "Y-yes, of course."</p><p>"Greg, Mycroft texted earlier and told me he was going to be ringing an ambulance. I need you to stand at the gate and direct them both here. Go."</p><p>Greg scuttles off and John sits on his knees beginning compressions. "Okay Sherlock, breath. Every six seconds. One, two, three, four, five, six..."</p><p>Sherlock leans down and breathes into her mouth, enough so that her chest rises. "Come on Molly, come on!"</p><p>"One, two, three, four, five, six..."</p><p>He leans down and puffs air into her lungs once again, gently caressing her cheeks, then again, and again six and twelve seconds later. "Please Molly...I love you. I'm so sorry I took so long. Please, I love you..." he chokes up again.</p><p>John checks her pulse again. "I found one, dear God, I found one. It's barely readable, but it's faintly there. Keep going."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Mycroft shows up just as the ambulance does and he quickly gets out of the car. He strides over to Lestrade. "What's the status, Detective Inspector?"</p><p>Greg runs his hands through his hair, still stunned and disturbed by what he saw. "N-Not good, Mr. Holmes. Not good at all." The EMTs rush over and Lestrade leads them all to Molly Hooper, whom, after seven minutes, is still in dire straits. John is still doing chest compressions, breathless, and Sherlock is still giving her mouth to mouth.</p><p>The EMTs quickly take over and ready her for transport to Bart's. John stand there breathless and glances over at Sherlock who is completely undone, and tears begin to flow down his face yet again. "Sh-she has to hold on, John. She must. I-I...I can't lose her. Not now, not after everything. I need her. John, you have to save her."</p><p>"I know that Sherlock...believe me, I understand. I'm...freaking out too, I just have a cooler head. The medics can do a better job than I can right now. We need to let them work, okay?"</p><p>Sherlocks hands tremble as he rubs his face and fidgets with his sleeves. "Okay..yeah..she'll be fine. She'll be fine she's strong." he mutters.</p><p>Mycroft walks over and can't quite decide what to say to him. He stands silently and pretends to be making sure the medics are handling her correctly. Sherlock glances over at him. "Why are you here, we don't need you here."</p><p>"I am just overseeing that everything is handled correctly and that you don't turn to drugs today."</p><p>Sherlock scoffs angrily. "I should have bloody known. I'll have no need to turn to anything recreational if she lives, so they better make damn sure that she does. Not only that but I see no point in continuing this ridiculously cruel life if she does not. Overdosing bliss seems like the best way to go for me." he snaps.</p><p>"Sherlock Holmes, don't you even think about that, you idiot."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You heard me. Why? Why not? It's not like you would care, you wouldn't have to keep babysitting me around the city in my adventures, dragging me back from crack dens, or surveying me as I walk the streets of London battling criminals. The only one who would miss me is John and I am quite sure that the recent development in his love life could distract him the way Mary had the first time I was believed to be dead."</p><p>"You know why. You also know I won't say it, so enough."</p><p>Sherlock rolls his eyes and looks away, locking his eyes on the medics that are lifting Molly's unconscious form into the ambulance. "I'm going with her! I'm her boyfriend!"</p><p>"Boyfriend!?" Mycroft and Lestrade exclaim in shock.</p><p>"Yes." he snaps and jumps into the rig. The doors close and he carefully takes Molly's cold hand.</p><p>"Molly...I know I have doubted your strength in the past. I know I haven't always been the best friend or the best confidante or the best anything to you. I know I was in the process of making it up to you, but I haven't yet." he voice shakes. "I-..I..I haven't made it up to you, not nearly. You can't leave me Molly...I'm selfish and I need you and I can't let you leave like this. Not like this, not now. Please Molly...please fight. Please...if I have ever begged for anything trivial, I was a bastard and I am so sorry. But I will keep begging you to come back to me. I will beg and beg and beg if you just fight. Please..." his voice cracks. "God Molly...please." Sherlock sniffs and his eyes again brim with tears and he kisses her pale hand.</p><p>The medics continue to work on her, hooking her up to fluids and oxygen as they start moving towards Bart's Hospital.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Molly stands up slowly, feeling a bit lighter and no longer tired, but still a bit foggy. She glances after her body as the medics take her away and to the ambulance, a sad smile coming to her lips when Sherlock tells his brother and Greg that he is her boyfriend, even though he has always hated the word. Watching Sherlock hop into the ambulance, she turns her attention to Mary. </p><p>"I-If they got my pulse back a little bit, how am I still here?"</p><p>"My guess is that it is still weak enough for you to be in between life and death. I'm sorry Molly..."</p><p>"Sherlock gave me mouth to mouth. I didn't even know that he knew CPR. He usually doesn't know very trivial things such as CPR, the solar system, that ordinary people aren't very interested in the 243 types of tobacco ash he has differentiated, and such."</p><p>"No, but I think Sherlock would do anything for you, Molly. He is so in love with you now. He feels guilty too. I don't know what he'll do if you die, or if you live."</p><p>"If I live and he tries to push me away, I'll drag him back here with me."</p><p>Mary chuckles softly and rubs her shoulder. "There's the Molly I know. Tough as nails."</p><p>Molly smiles slightly and leans on her friend. "I'm glad John and Greg were here to help him through this. John could have saved me. Sherlock always said it took him to save a life." </p><p>"Yes well, my husband is very good when it comes to people in medical need. He's a bit rough around the edges but he can also be a teddy bear." she grins. </p><p>"As can Sherlock, believe it or not."</p><p>"Oh I believe it, he was one of the most emotional men I have ever met. Cold-hearted my ass. That sod wears his heart on his sleeve and has ever since I met him."</p><p>"Oh yeah, he has ever since I met him too. At the time he was recovering from addiction for the first time, so he was sensitive and a bit unsure of himself. Lestrade introduced him to me and Mike since he was going to be needing the lab to hone his skill and focus on it instead of the drugs to calm his mind. Once he got fully clean and became confident in his ability to shock people and such, he just always put on this cold, mean facade. Even with me he started being just...demanding and unfeeling and dismissive. I was always a bit shy so I kind of just...took it and continued with my work. I had a crush on him obviously, but I did help him in the lab for the sole purpose of helping the families of the cases he worked on, not to be his little puppy dog. I refused to be that pathetic, and I did give it back to him every chance I got. But, I knew he was going through a lot so I guess I just let him act how he was going to act, hoping it was a phase of becoming better and getting to know his new self, but it continued. It came to the point years ago where I couldn't handle it anymore. Moriarty was on the loose and he had someone kidnap two kids. Sherlock was in the lab acting like stone per usual, and I let it be known that I could see how he really felt. He looked sad. He would never let anyone see him looking sad, or scared, or anything. So, I let him know that I saw him, always. That I knew what it was like to have to pretend you're okay. He looked really caught off guard. There was a moment where his walls came down, but it was a split-second. I told him that I just figured I didn't count though, assuming he would know his emotional secret was safe with me. Mary, he looked at me like he finally saw me that day. I think that was the beginning of us actually being friends. I think he began to respect me more that day. I was done looking like a suck up when I was the boss of the lab. After that, I was the one person he came to and trusted to help him survive jumping off that roof. As much as it hurt to carry that secret away from John and the rest of his friends, he trusted me. He saw me. I couldn't betray him when it was as important as his safety.  If Moriarty's network knew he was in fact alive, he could have really been killed. That's why it was important that nobody knew but me. Because Moriarty didn't even see me as important in any way to Sherlock and that's what saved him. In fact, he needed a place to stay for a few days before leaving for Europe to dismantle his network, so he stayed at my house. Stole my bed, the jerk. I had to sleep in the guest room for two days. He claimed mine was "more comfortable and he needed to stock up on sleep". I was quite pleased when he asked me to sleep with him though the last two days. My house then became one of his bolt holes."</p><p>Mary gasps. "Sherlock Holmes asked what!?"</p><p>Molly giggles. "Now don't go freaking out, it is as I just said. He wanted to sleep. Just, with me beside him. Still didn't prevent us from waking up cuddled but you know, it was very nice." she smirks. "Our secret. It was nice when he would come around after he came back to London very much alive, even though it was always a sort of platonic "cuddle" I guess." she laughs softly. "Odd, but very Sherlocky. It was few and very far between, and once he left it was never acknowledged or discussed again. Not even when we just recently agreed to try dating each other. We haven't gotten a chance to again yet either."</p><p>Mary grins. "I knew you guys must have had conversations and such, but I never knew how deep you were Molly. No wonder he was pissed at your engagement. He could not flirt for his life and was terrified of his feelings! Unfortunately, all his friends saw was a mutual respect for you, but not a deep connection or anything. I'm glad that he had you to come to when John was being a prick. When he was so struck with anger that he wasn't thinking clearly. I am so glad that he had you to fall back on. You're a safe haven for him. John was his best friend, but you are his safe haven. And that is something truly special on its own."</p><p>Molly smiles and nods. "As much as I hated that people saw me as some doe-eyed, pining girl, I knew what our conversations really held, and I knew that I could hold my own against him. That's all I needed not to care what anyone else thought."</p><p>Mary smiles softly. "I'm glad you knew yourself and didn't stand down from him. You're the only person who can keep him right. He's become a bit scared of you." she laughs. "You should have seen his face when we told him he had to pee in the jar, and you were going to test it. I'm telling you; it was pure terror. I was sooo glad you gave it to him. He needs tough love sometimes just to knock sense into him."</p><p>"I must admit, that wasn't only me trying to knock sense into him, I WAS angry that he would willingly put his health in danger again and destroy everything that he had worked so hard for. That he would betray us, and not lean on us for help. Me especially because he always had since the fall. He knew he could come to me and he didn't. I assume it was because he was pissed about my engagement. At that point I gave up on hopes he would see me as more. But he should have known that didn't lessen our friendship. He should have known that."</p><p>"Wow...I had no idea how much you had gone through with him Molly."</p><p>"Remember when he killed Magnussen? I thought we were going to lose him again because of Mycroft, but we all know how that turned out. Then when you died Mary...I thought he was going to die. More than I had ever thought before when he was in danger. His body was shutting down. Thank God I convened with the staff that was taking care of him when he finally admitted himself to let them know what he was on."</p><p>Mary nods. You have been through a lot together. More than anyone knows. But all that's important is that Sherlock knows."</p><p>"Of course. But he isn't the ONLY one who knows. I mean, I guess I didn't see everything as him having feelings for me until I heard the story of Eurus, his secret, deranged sister, and how she knew things she never should have. Things beyond the scope of human intuition. She trapped him and John and Mycroft there and had them go through some murderous puzzles, and one of them was getting me to say "I Love You" to Sherlock before Eurus' would supposedly blow up my house with me in it. I was in a bad mood, and made him say it first, which he did...twice. It shocked me. I guess Eurus's point was hoping he would finally realize how he felt about me, because she didn't tell him until after he successfully made me say it and saved me, that it was all a lie and there were no explosives. The thing was, the puzzle started with only a single wooden coffin and the words "I Love You" on the lid. She made him deduce that it was mine and that he had to make me say it to save my life. According to Mycroft, Sherlock is Eurus' only weak spot. I guess she does actually want him to be happy. In some creepy way, pushing him to me would make him aware that he should be grateful to her for it, and remind him to visit her to keep her at bay? That's broadly speaking how Sherlock explained it to me once."</p><p>"Oh my God, Molly. So someone found out about that and actually used her idea to a greater scale and buried you."</p><p>"Apparently. I know Jim Moriarty planned the puzzles with Eurus...don't ask, long story. So I'm guessing maybe it's someone who wanted revenge for his death."</p><p>"I'm so sorry you got caught in the middle of that Moll. I'm sorry this is even happening to you."</p><p>"Me too...I'm just worried how Sherlock will react if I miraculously survive and he realizes they targeted me because he loves me...I wouldn't want him to push me away again..."</p><p>Mary gives her a gentle hug and rubs her back. "You'll both figure it out. Look what you've been through...it's just one more hurdle."</p><p>Molly nods a little and sadly fiddles with her fingers. "I suppose so..."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Emotionally exhausted, Sherlock is nearly dozing off in the ambulance, Molly's cool hand within his own. The harsh jolt of a pothole startles him awake and he looks at Molly. She looks no better than she had six minutes ago. Suddenly the shrill screaming of a machine fills the vehicle and both medics rush over, pushing him towards the back. </p><p>"What's happening!? What's wrong!?"</p><p>"She's flatlining!"'</p><p>"No God... Molly no not again! Molly!! Hold on!"</p><p>The medics perform CPR rigorously for a few minutes then grab the AED paddles. Sherlock's eyes fill with tears and he remembers the pain of those, even when he was in his mind palace at the time. He wonders if Molly is stuck in her own version of a mind palace, and hopes that if she is, she isn't feeling pain the way he had. "Molly...Molly PLEASE!!"</p><p>"Clear!" one medic shouts, before the familiar shocking thump of the paddles ring out, rising her chest off the cot and back down limply. The shrieking of the machine goes unaltered. They pump her chest with CPR for a few seconds yet again, then continue. </p><p>"Clear!" They shock her heart again with no luck. This process continues round after round until Sherlock loses track of time and he can feel the crushing ache in his chest where a very strong heart beats, once damaged itself. </p><p>Eight minutes later the loud monotone squeal of the machine is yet to be silenced. It becomes the only noise filling the rig, the exhausted pants of air from the medics not even registering to Sherlock Holmes. Then he hears the words he would have died a thousand times over again not to experience.</p><p>"Time of death, 18:59."</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Fall Now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock mourns over Molly's corpse and uses his mind palace to reminisce about all the major moments they had together.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Author's Note: Omg listening to these songs while writing/reading this just...amps up the emotions. I highly recommend...sort of  :'-( </p><p>1.)  Only Human by Christina Perri &gt;&gt; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XX9E2xuc7nU</p><p>2.)  A Thousand Years by Christina Perri &gt;&gt; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hrM-Bkm4c_I</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
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  <span>(Photo edit made by me. @i_am_completely_sherlocked on Instagram)</span>
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  <span>Sherlock makes his way to the morgue to be with Molly's body. He had begged and pleaded with anyone who would listen. Any deity, any force in the universe, anything he could think of to bargain with to bring Molly back. He did not want to even think about living life without her anymore. Not after everything he had done to her and all he has to make up for. John, Mycroft, and Greg had met him at Bart’s, but he demanded that they leave him be when he went into the morgue; HER Morgue. How could he ever come here again for anything if she weren’t here to assist? If she wasn't here with her obnoxiously cheery jumpers, or her adorable smile, or the way she cared enough to bring him a lukewarm hospital coffee when she got her own, on mornings he was up early on a case. Even just her little quips that he used to make fun of and tell her not to joke about, or the way she would see through all of his bullshit and prove to him that she could SEE him.</span>
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  <span>Looking over to the adjoining lab, all their memories flash through his mind, from least to most recent; they began with the day they first met, when Greg somehow convinced New Scotland Yard to recruit him as a freelancer and the integration to that was working with Bart's morgue and lab. He was very grumpy and beginning his transition into high and emotional young Sherlock to sober and cold older Sherlock. When he had walked in, he had expected to see an old man cutting up a body with shaky fingers, the way he had always imagined pathologists. But no, it was a very young, very petite Molly Hooper, fresh out of med school (top of her class) and highly praised by the hospital for her sweet demeanor and intelligence on the subject. Sherlock had nearly gaped; there was no way this small girl could cut into people for a living. But that she did. He even got to watch her do an autopsy for the first time and it was stupendous. The way her small but nimble hand worked with total confidence and elegance, and the way she handled each organ like it was a treasure trove. Greg had to leave the room because he couldn't stomach it; funny because he had seen brutal murder scenes. Sherlock remembers being completely enthralled with her, until he remembered his brother's all too familiar words. <b>"Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock." </b>Sherlock's heart sank at the thought of what they could have been, just if he had put his pride aside and not listened to his damned brother. He could have had so many more amazing memories with her.</span>
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  <span>His mind then flashes to the day he became cold and dismissive to her, seeing her smile quickly fade into a hurt look, scurrying off and wanting to be far away from his insults as possible. None of them were even true, he was just trying to hide the fact that he loved every aspect of her that he belittled. The next flash is the day he met John, and how he blew off her advances. <b><em>"Black, two sugars please, I'll be upstairs."</em></b> He had left her standing there and probably feeling like a fool, but she brought it to him anyway. Then there was the entire Moriarty debacle, telling her he was gay and crushing her heart further. <b><em>"He's not gay! Why do you have to spoil-!? He's not!"</em></b> He was in a way trying to be kind, but in reality Jim was, in fact, gay and Sherlock didn't want anybody hanging around his Molly...even though he didn't believe he even deserved her. He knew sabotaging most her dates was wrong and selfish, but he was selfish. Keeping his coolness about him, he did let a bit more of his heart out bit by bit. He couldn't contain how appalled he was when she said that she thought she didn't count to him. HOW could she think that? Yes, he was a dick, but OF COURSE she counted, she mattered. She always had. After that conversation, he became more aware of how he treated her, until the case with Irene drove him to madness and he hurt her yet again. When he realized, he immediately apologized, but the damage was done. Molly is so strong and shouldn't love him, he doesn't deserve her. Soon after, the real test of his feelings came, and it started with the fall. </span>
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  <span>Sherlock knew that Molly was the only one with the knowledge to help him survive Moriarty. <b><em>"What do you need?" "You..."</em></b> And brilliant she was; the squash ball under the armpit trick was her idea, she taught him about it. She was also the one to find the corpse that looked similar to him, and she’s the one who used her signature to fake his death records, despite the risk of losing her medical license or worse. Molly was the one who pushed the corpse out of the window at the exact right time too. She was the one who let him stay at her home until he had to leave, given him her OWN bed because it was more comfortable. Oh, how he lost himself in those few days, letting his guard down so much that they actually <em>snuggled</em>. And he secretly loved it. </span>
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  <span>Things were rocky with John when he came back and in classic style he needed to lean on Molly for comfort. He flashes back to the day they discovered the beginning of the Moran terrorist plot, especially when he realized she was engaged. He remembers the feeling of his heart shattering in his chest, but realizing she deserved happiness. She deserved better than him. <b><em>"The one person Moriarty thought didn't matter at all to me, was the one person who mattered the most....but you can't do this again can you? Congratulations by the way. I hope you'll be very happy Molly Hooper. After all, not all the men you fall for can be sociopaths."</em></b> Sherlock remembers walking out after that, unable to look her in the eyes any longer in fear that he would expose his heart. It only hurt more when he heard her say <b><em>"maybe that's just my type"</em></b> and he pretended he didn't.</span>
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  <span>The next flash he was feeling her slaps. Ohh, her slaps. The ones that let him know without a shadow of a doubt that he had fucked up. They were exhilarating and they brought him down to Earth. They kept him tethered to reality when he was high as a kite. She was so mad when he was high. He knew it was because she cared and it really could have killed him, but again, he got lucky. He didn't deserve the chances he got though, Molly DID. </span>
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  <span>Suddenly he was at Rosie's Baptism. He loved how beautiful she was that day. Breathtakingly beautiful in her rose bloom dress and curly hair style. He had, maybe made an error in judgement texting in front of the priest and was given a stern talking to after by both John and Molly, but it was worth it to see her teasing him and giggling under her breath like they were teenagers passing notes in class. Admittingly, seeing her with Rosie ignited a bit of a fire in the pit of his stomach; he was such a natural nurturer. He should know! She's taken care of him more times than he ever deserved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The warm feeling of that day is replaced with panic and anxiousness as the scene in his head morphs into "the coffin room" and all the terrible feelings that came with it. He thought he was going to lose her then. That he would never get to say it to her in a way that she absolutely undoubtedly knew that it was true. As much as it threw him off, he was very proud that she made him say it first. She grew stronger and no longer let him walk all over her because he could. She gave it back to him. <em>"You say it. Go on, you say it first. Say it. Say it like you mean it."  </em>So he did. Say it, and mean it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snippets of the last couple weeks flicker like a slideshow in his head, before thrusting him back into reality where he was sweating and panting hard. <b><em>"All those complicated little emotions, I lost count. Emotional context Sherlock, it destroys you every time."</em></b> Eurus' voice rings out in his head and he squeezes his eyes shut again, tears falling fast. She was right, how she knew was anyone's guess, but of course, she was right. He loved her. He supposes he always has from the moment he laid eyes on her. She was so smart, so intelligent, so beautiful, so gentle, so kind, loving to a fault. That can't be gone, she can't be gone. He loved her fully, irrevocably, and undyingly, and his sister was right. It absolutely is destroying him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly and Mary's spirits wisp into the morgue. Molly's face falls at the sight of Sherlock looking nearly as disheveled as when he's high, leaning over her body which is now on one of the slabs, HER slabs, all but her face and feet covered by a sheet. Mary comfortingly squeezes her shoulder. Molly goes over to where her body lies, and where Sherlock is and sniffles, stroking his cheek with her thumb. If she really /really/ concentrates she can just barely make out the warmth of his face under her aura of touch. "Sherlock...it-..it's going to be okay. I promise..I promise you it'll be okay. Don't feel guilty, please. I love you so much. I do not want you feeling like this. I don't. I have forgiven you for all your faults, I have cared about you since the day I met you, and I would do anything for you, because I know you. I know who you really are. You're the cold, calculating, man of intelligence who can fool anyone with his facade, when really you are the man who wears his heart on his sleeve, who would die a hundred times over to save his friends, who has gone through literal torture to do so, who has done everything for everyone else and who just needed the same love back. You're the man who pretends you don't care about if people like you, but it bothers you when they don't. You're the man who can love unconditionally without making it obvious. But it was always obvious to me Sherlock. You love deeply, you feel deeply, and you hurt deeply." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tears well up in her eyes. "You especially hurt deeply...because so much has happened to hurt you, and you have been put through the most unimaginable things in this world. You deserve happiness, you deserve love, you deserve kindness and gentleness. You are the most incredible human being I have ever met. There isn't a day that went by that I hadn't thought of you as the eighth wonder of the world. You have flaws like everyone else, but that does not make you any less deserving of love and of care. You may think your brain is the best asset that you have, but I have never faltered in thinking it was really your heart." Molly can feel tears rushing down her face. Sherlock is wracked with sobs and cupping her face, then places his head down and rests it on her exposed shoulder. "Sherlock...I'm here...I'm here" her voice cracks and she moves in, placing a soft kiss to his cheek, only the aura of her lips on his skin there, no comfort of actual touch. "I love you, /always/."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably. He was never not in control, but he can't seem to stop. He hasn't been nearly this destroyed since his parents told him his best friend was dead. Since the day his sister was taken away. Since the day that Mycroft had gone to college and left him alone. Since the day that he was sent to a boys boarding school where everyone despised him and made fun of him unrelentingly, until he curled up in his bed and sobbed, missing the safety of his home. Since the days he spent in alleys and crack dens shooting up to numb the pain of his depression, loneliness, and self-hatred. Since the day Lestrade brought him home and made him go through withdrawal, his first wife a nurse who took care of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he met Molly, and her presence had stopped all the pain with her sunny smiles and cute faces and her concern over everything. She had made him feel seen and sane, and WORTH something. He had not felt worth anything for as long as he could remember. Despite having a heart, he knew had a faulty scale within him, tipping towards intellect until it nearly fell over and leaving his heart behind, turning it to stone. The only time he truly felt it beat within him when he was in Molly's vicinity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can't control the rush of tears escaping him, the shaking of his entire being, or the gasps of quivering air he's attempting to breathe. He can't control the /pain/ of losing her. Not without her. Never without her. He cradles her head in his arms again gently, as he had earlier in the cemetery and kisses her head, beginning to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet. None of this was right, none of this was right at all. This can't be Molly. Not on her own slab, in her own morgue, under her own sheet. The thought of her office being ruined, all her Molly-esque knick-knacks and notes being discarded, and the ambience of her warmth leaving these rooms, leaving only the bitter chill of death absolutely enrages him. Not to mention the thought of her not being here when he needs her for a case, or even when he needs her not for a case. He needs her always, he quickly realizes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>One fond memory in particular pops into mind. It was after Culverton Smith nearly suffocated him to death. When he was cleared from the hospital he felt broken, unsure, and scared. He felt these things more often than anyone knew, but Molly always knew. All he had to do was show up, and no matter how angry she was at him, or how much of a dick he was, she would always take care of him. He had showed up on her doorstep, shaking a bit and stitched up. She in turn, had let him in, fed him some real food, since he rarely ate the nasty hospital slop, and watched a dumb flighty movie with him to ease his mind so he wouldn't have to think so hard. When he got sleepy, she had gently moved his head onto her lap and ran her fingers through his curls soothingly. It had been so nice, and it was the first time in a long while that he allowed his body and his mind to relax. She was peace, safety, and comfort, not just medical advice and strength like in his mind palace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock gently traces his thumb over her cool cheek and her lips. "You were perfect, Molly Hooper. Absolutely perfect. I was wrong, I was always wrong. Please forgive me....please" he chokes out through tears. "I don't know what else to do here, please help me. I need you. Dear God, I need you so much. I have never needed anything so much in my life. But that is how much I need you Molly!" He begs and pleads with her body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~An hour earlier~ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Greece here we come!!" Sebastian howls in triumph. "I plan to see news of the detective's suicide within the next few weeks, if not days. After everything, it was easy. It was so easy! Oh, if Jim had only known to get rid of that pathetic mouse, and Sherlock would have been served on a gold platter, Lion!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lionel smirks and grabs his phone. "So, we have two snipers stationed in area 66 and in area 98 that we discussed. Nobody knows their true identity, we got them new ones. They will lay in wait for your brother and your cousin, the traitor. I'm sure they'll both make a deal with the Feds for release. Not without punishment, I am afraid." Lionel laughs devilishly, and grabs some of their bags as they load the car. "Is Jaime meeting you in Greece?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look at you Lion, all concerned about the little children. Yes, I've arranged for the nannies to get him there. I suppose it's always good to learn a new language, but then again we may be moving quite often sooo, maybe not."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't mind children, as long as there is a nanny around" he chuckles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sebastian snorts and brings the last of their equipment and belongings to the vehicle. "Off we pop!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mycroft begrudgingly goes back to his home after having a very long and arduous conversation with John about Sherlock's well-being, and the fact that if there were any danger nights in the past, these would be worse. John already knew that though; he remembered the agony of losing Mary, thinking they were going to grow old together and raise their beautiful Rosie together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Mycroft sinks into his favorite office chair and rubs his face, his little brother's grief heavy on his own heart. Despite everything he has pounded into Sherlock's mind since they were young, he realizes that Sherlock is more emotional than he truly knew and that maybe, just maybe, Molly Hooper could have been a critical part in keeping that part of him at bay and on balance with his intellectual dexterity. She was really an intelligent woman, for a goldfish. Well, more like a rainbow trout; colorful and eager.  Doctor Hooper was always polite to him, even kind; he remembers planning Sherlock's fake suicide with her, and she was not irritatingly incompetent like most humans, she was very astute. He feels a wave of sadness for the petite pathologist who is gone much too soon. She had so much potential. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he gets up to return to the upper, and more private area of his home, Detective Inspector Lestrade walks into his office looking sad, worn-out, and pitiful. Mycroft can tell that whatever it is, it's not good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I assume you come bearing bad news Detective Inspector, not that we needed any more of that today."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well yeah, I-..." he sighs, clearly distressed. "Obviously, I didn't want to go to Sherlock with this. He's...grieving and probably not well, and this would only make things worse."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Rightly so. Well?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's no trace of Moran or any of his snipers or cronies. We swept all of Moriarty's old bolt holes, we had the list from Sherlock year ago. Even his mansion down in Sussex. It’s completely cleared out. My guess is that they fled the country for now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Unfortunately, I expected as much from them. What are we doing with Tom and Sullivan? I assume Sullivan Moran will be released seeing as he is innocent, but Thomas Weston?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes well, he is negotiating his release. Seeing as he led to finding Molly, we gave him slight leniency. I always knew that kid was bad news...he was just very fake. I should have told her, but I'm no Sherlock and since Sherlock said nothing, I figured it was nothing this bad." He sighs and rubs his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How long?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Three months. He admitted he helped set up equipment, knowing what they may do, but we have no evidence. He will be out by August."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Damn."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Exactly." Lestrade hands him a copy of the documents. "Is there anything you can think of, that I can do for him? It's just that I never knew how he truly felt about her and now that she's gone, I don’t think he's going to be alright."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"There's nothing we can do. Grief will take its course. John and I will be monitoring for any sign of drugs. I'm unpleased to say that's all we can do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Greg nods slowly. "I'll be checking up on him too. You know the history, he's...sort of like a little brother to me too. I worry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That’s certainly understandable Detective Inspector. Thank You."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll be going then. Oh, and Mycroft, it's okay to be distressed about this. Nobody's...judging anyone. She was a great loss to us all. In varying degrees. It's very sad."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I suppose it is, however, I'm not given to outward expressions of emotion. Evening, Inspector."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lestrade nods and leaves, closing the door behind him. Mycroft sinks back down into his chair and covers his face, knowing that if Sherlock gets a hold of this information he will be driven further off the cliff than he is now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock wipes his puffy face and looks up at the morgue clock. {19:08} It's been nine minutes since she stopped breathing. Nine minutes since he felt her lovely heartbeat thrumming against her delicate wrists. Nine minutes since his soul shattered into billions of microscopic pieces. No. Not on his watch. He won't let this happen. He won't let her go. Even if he looks like the world's biggest fool. She's saved his miserable life more times than he can count and he's going to save her. He MUST save her. His life is as good as over if he can't.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Swallowing back his grief, Sherlock makes a crazy decision and copies what John was doing back at the cemetery. He mutters to himself "One...two...three...four...five...six" and he puffs her chest up with air, her lips a bluish hue and cool against his warm pink ones. "Come on Molly...please...please come back...I need you..." He takes a deep breath and puffs again, continuing over and over for nearly five minutes, tears beginning to slowly trail down his pale cheeks again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly looks at Mary in disbelief. "H-he's trying again..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He loves you Molly. If you ever had any doubt, you know for certain now. Sherlock is Sherlock...his grief makes him do...Sherlocky things."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly begins to feel a bit woozy and floaty again looks at her hands. They're slightly transparent again and she groans. "Mary, I feel weird again..." Suddenly she gasps and looks over at Mary who tears up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A big glow of white light consumes half of the morgue. It seems warm and welcoming, and it's like it beckons her into it. "Is...is this...?" Molly sniffles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"For you Moll. So you can be at peace, so you can see your Dad and your little boy again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly Molly turns around and looks back at Sherlock, desperately trying to save her. Tears fall from her cheeks and she looks at him lovingly. Walking over to Sherlock again, she places her hands over the ones she has on her chest. "I love you. I hope you always know that. You're a lot deeper than anyone will know, and you deserve love and happiness. You're special Sherlock, you've always been special. I love you so much. Goodbye, Sherlock Holmes. I'll save you a dance, this time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly's lip trembles and tears grace her lashes. Just as a couple fall onto her ghostly hands, a few of Sherlock's do as well. Molly feels worse and notices her body becoming more and more transparent, and suddenly she really is floating and she can't control it. "Mary?? What do I do??"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You relax, you close your eyes and you let yourself drift to where you're supposed to be Molly. I'm glad I got to see you again. Take care, darling." Mary smiles softly at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly hears herself calling out for Mary as she fades away, leaving her there alone. Why was she leaving her there all alone?? She was supposed to guide her!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Molly is hovering above her body on the slab, realizing that her lips are beginning to lighten back into a pinker shade. Is that even possible? She has no idea why she's hovering or why she can't exactly move but she's feeling lightheaded and airy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly a random thought pops into her head from when Sherlock told her he got shot and she was in his mind palace guiding him to life. She can hear his words, as spoken by fake Molly. "Forwards or backwards, we need to decide which way you're going to fall. On your back, gravity is working with us. Fall..now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly closes her eyes and fully relaxes her body, feeling herself being drawn down, as if she was a magnet, then her mind goes blank and she loses feeling as her body in its present form becomes completely see through. Molly Hooper then again becomes completely void of awareness. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. The Power of Love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock mourns Molly; Molly's brother misses home; Mycroft has a conversion too personal for his liking; the impossible happens in Bart's morgue.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As Sherlock continues to weep over the body of his seemingly lost love, he realizes there is not one option left for her. There is no last resort, no magical solution, no intellectual comprehension that can save her. His Molly Hooper, the morbid pathologist with the adorable smile and the cringe-worthy sense of humor was lost to this world forever, and it was Sherlock Holmes' fault. Getting close to her killed her; something he always knew in the back of his mind would happen. Something he knew was a distinct possibility, yet he ignored it in favor of emotion. Emotion; the very thing that pure knowledge told him dozens and dozens of times over was only found on the losing side. Emotion; the very thing that was the bane of his existence since childhood. Emotion; the one thing that plagued him like a deadly disease. Emotion; something he will never feel again for the rest of his days if he can help it, because it only gets the people he cares about hurt. </p><p>He needs to stop bloody caring, feeling, sensing, loving. In any ordinary person these would be the signs of a well liked individual, a praised personality. But in him, in Sherlock Holmes, it was a curse. One that will end every fiber of happiness and pride that he has within himself, reducing him back to the once dense shell he pretended to be. This time he wouldn't pretend, he will become. Without Molly Hooper in the world, there is no need for pretending, for feeling, for happiness. She was the light that defined his every dark day. A beautiful light that had been snuffed out due to his emotional ignorance. He will need to go deep into his mind palace and clean out. Reset. Become an empty robot as he was when he started. Delete everything that has to do with sentiment and start fresh. Intelligence only. </p><p>Sherlock strokes Molly's pale cheek one last time, the final tear escaping his eye. "Rest in the most beautiful of peace, Molly Hooper. You deserve it." He leans down and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling away. He straightens himself up and fixes his coat around him, wiping any trace of sadness from his face. "Soldier..." he mutters to himself. He glances at her body one last time, shaking the thought out of his mind that her lips look a bit less purple, and makes his stride towards the double doors.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>John walks up to Mrs. Hudson's 221A door, a pang of sadness bothering his heart. Molly was a dear friend to both him and Mary, and the most lovely godmother to Rosie, who loved her like a second Mum. And then of course there was Sherlock; especially now knowing that Sherlock was attempting to take his advice and start dating. Admittedly, he never figured him to go for Molly, as the only woman John had seen him "flirt" with, if he could call it that, was Irene. But it should have been clear to him with how he smashed up to coffin back in Sherrinford. Sherlock doesn't act that crazed unless something is tearing his world apart, and thinking that he had hurt Molly Hooper like that must have driven him mad, seeing as his profession of love was true. Himself and Mycroft had been ignorantly unaware of that fact until now. </p><p>Knocking gently at the door, he paces a bit and is disheartened that he will have to tell Mrs Hudson of Molly's passing. She was a great friend to her, and a fellow godmother. Molly had even helped Martha in the bakery on occasion when she was short staffed.  </p><p>Mrs Hudson opens the door and quickly assesses John's face, her own falling. "Oh John...it's not bad news is it? Please tell me everything worked out."</p><p>John sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly, moving into her sitting room. "I think you should sit down..." he starts, feeling his eyes mist over. "There's...well, there's no easy way to say this so I'm just going to do it."</p><p>She sits in her floral chair slowly, a look of sheer worry across her face, glancing over to make sure that Rosie is distracted, before turning her attention back to John. "John..what is it, what happened?"</p><p>He clears his throat and swallows hard. "Uhh well, short version uhh...Moriarty's second in command, so to speak...he um..he found out that Sherlock had feelings for Molly, and he used Eurus' idea from Sherrinford and.." he trails off, hs voice shaking. Clearing his throat again, he continues. "He buried Molly alive. For real. Sherlock and I did everything we could as fast as we could and we did get to her. She was alive for awhile but sh-..she...she...didn't make it to the hospital. I-I'm sorry...Molly is..is dead."</p><p>Matha covers her mouth and her eyes fill with tears as she begins to sob. "Oh, no...oh John..ohh..she's so young. Ohh and Sherlock...he must be crushed, the poor things!"</p><p>John sniffs and looks down at his hands. "I know, it's unbelievable. It's weird, you know. Molly was such a pivotal part of our lives even when she was just a lab helper. She grew into herself, into her confidence and she became so much more than that. A friend, a best friend, a godmother, a partner. Did you know they were dating? Her and Sherlock? They decided to give it a go, or rather, he did."</p><p>"John...h-he's going to need someone to watch him, you know his habits. This is going to be the worst he's ever been. How is he ever going to get through this John? How?"</p><p>"I-..." he sighs defeatedly. "I really don't know, Mrs. H. I don't know."</p><p>"What about her brother, he'll have to get the notification...the poor boy will be beside himself. Molly told me they were really close before he went off to war, she raised him practically."</p><p>"Jesus, I nearly forgot about her brother..he'll be devastated. Junkie mum, no father, now he's lost Molly...it's not fair is it?"</p><p>"Life rarely is dear. Loss doesn't ever leave you. You and me, we have the luxury of it just very slowly fading with time. A mind like Sherlock's...well, I suppose we will see if he gets that luxury as well. I don't think he will be as objective to it though." she sighs and blots her eyes with a tissue. "She was an amazing girl. Just the sweetest person..."</p><p>"She was...it's horrible." He gently scoops up Rosie and cuddles her. "Come here sweet girl, I love you."</p><p>"Wuv!" Rosie grins. "Ol an Wock?"</p><p>John's face falls again. "Sherlock and Molly are busy sweetie. How about we go to the playground hm?"</p><p>"'em go?" she looks at him quizzically.</p><p>"No princess they can't come with us today. Sherlock is on a case, okay?"</p><p>Rosie pouts and cuddles him, accepting defeat. John hugs Mrs. Hudson with his free arm. "I am sorry...I know she meant a lot to you too. I'll let you know whatever I find out about...anything, I suppose. Thanks for watching Rosie again..."</p><p>She sniffs and nods. "Of course, I'll be here to help with her now that...you know.."</p><p>John nods sadly and leaves with Rosie, taking her to the park, hoping that seeing her happy will cheer him up just a little.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>A nicely toned young soldier exits from the shower, towel around his waist. He waves to his fellow comrades as he moves back towards his room to dress. Sighing, he pulls on his off duty clothing and takes out his cell phone from his belongings. It's been days since he has turned it on, nevermind used it. Going into his contacts he smiles as his sister's name comes up and it dials. He places it to his ear and awaits her cheerful greeting. Their phone calls have been regular the last few months, since his schedule was not as taxing as it was before. Her voice was always a comfort to him, keeping his connection to home. The phone rings once, twice, thrice, four times. "That's odd..." he thinks. "Molly always picks up by the second ring, especially when it's me." </p><p>"Hi it's Molly, at the dead center of town" she chuckles on the message. "Leave a message." There's a beep. </p><p>"Uh, hey Molls, it's me. I don't know why you didn't answer, you must be really busy at work. Anyway, I'm off duty for a couple days so I thought I'd give you a call. You can catch me up on the Sherlock situation. I'm glad the bloke is treating you better. Give me a call when you can, okay? Don't make me worry. I love you Molls. Ok, talk to you later. Bye." He hangs up and chews his lip. That was weird. </p><p>His roommate comes into the room and grins, flopping onto his bed. "Hey Matt, I hear you're on days off. Lucky bastard."</p><p>Matthew chuckles and nods. "Yeah, it's a good thing too, I'm pretty worn out. I'm sure yours are coming soon Jack."</p><p>"I'm due soon, so yeah, hopefully. I'm going to go to the canteen. What to come?"</p><p>"No, I'm gonna make my phone calls and stuff. I'll see you later, but thanks for the ask mate."</p><p>"Any time." He smiles and leaves as dramatically as he came. Matt shuts the door and looks down at his phone. Scrolling through his contacts again, he tries Molly's number a second time to no avail. "Damn it Molly, where are you..." he mutters. </p><p>Directly above Molly's name is another that means a lot to him. The screen reads "Mira" with her number. The last time they spoke was a few months ago. It was a bit distant and not how they usually were, and it troubled him because he still loved her. Matt thinks back to the first day he met her, in middle school. The funny, energetic redhead with a penchant for reading and photography. They became fast friends and she was there for him through a lot of crap. Junior year of secondary school they agreed to try dating and it was lovely, like their friendship only made their relationship better. They were each other's date to the prom, and they balanced each other nicely. She was the extrovert, he was the introvert. She was the comic, he was the nerd, presumably taking after Molly. </p><p>It was lovely. So lovely in fact that, after telling her that he had signed up and was chosen to be deployed, they had /almost/ shared their first time together; except her dad walked in. Somehow he survived, but they never did actually get past light foreplay. Which really just consisted of sloppy neck kisses and him kind of, sort of, feeling her breasts over her bra, but under her shirt. When he was deployed she had made a promise to wait for him; they were in love and it wouldn't change anything. Or would it? They had said very teary goodbyes and he had been stationed. The last five years had been slow and fast at the same time. He had come home a year after his first deployment only for three months, then was placed back. Now four years on, he is scheduled to be released for a full year or more. The exact date is unknown yet however. Matt smiles slightly thinking of Mira, hoping she still does want him. May as well ask. </p><p>        </p><p>Pressing the dial button, he waits with bated breath. He had been sending her regular letters, trying to be romantic even though they were thousands of miles apart. </p><p>"Hello?"</p><p>Her voice brings a smile to his face. "Miranda. Hey, it's me."</p><p>"Matty? Oh my gosh, hi."</p><p>"Hi..."</p><p>"Uh..h-how are you?"</p><p>"I'm good, how are you? I miss you a lot."</p><p>"I'm okay..." she says softly. </p><p>"Are you sure...you sound sad."</p><p>"Yeah, well missing your boyfriend for four years does that I guess..."</p><p>He looks down sadly. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. I miss you so much, you know that. I love you so much..."</p><p>"Why did you have to go? I know why you did but..." she sighs. "You had me to stay for, and you didn't and I guess it just bothers me. Obviously I get that you wanted to honor your Dad, and you're doing a great thing. But it sucks and I miss you and it hurts. Life is different at twenty-three than it was when we were eighteen Matty. I've entered and graduated from college and you weren't there, I started my first job and you weren't there, I got my own apartment and you're not here, I went through five birthdays and you weren't here. It's like my life is moving on without you. Do you have any idea how much that hurts? How heartbroken I am when I think of going through anything else without you? I feel like I'm moving on without you. But my heart won't let you go, and I don't think it will, and that's not fair."</p><p>A tear falls down his cheek. "I know, Mira. I know it's not fair." he sniffles. "I know you made a promise to me, back when I first left. Y-You don't have to keep it. I love you so much, that I'm willing to let you go, to let you move on with your life. I love you. I love you, and I miss you every single day. Every day."</p><p>She cries softly through the phone. "It's just been so long, and it scares me because there's days where I can't remember what your hugs feel like, or what your voice sounds like and that terrifies me. It terrifies me, because I'm still in love with you. So much that I...I'm in therapy now. I miss you so much, that I got depressed. Pathetic huh, it's like we share a heart or something. Crazy..."</p><p>Tears fall down his face. "Mira...I'm so sorry. I didn't know, I wish that I was home. You know that. I'm due for a longer leave this time. I think I'll be home by August...do  you want to see me if I do?"</p><p>She wipes her face and chokes out "you know that I do. Always. I just wish you could stay. I miss your hugs, and your kisses, and the smell of that silly cologne you like, and how warm you are when you hold me. I even miss your lame jokes and your nerd facts." She chuckles through a sob. </p><p>He wipes his face and smiles sadly. "I miss holding you so much. I miss your smile, and your crazy laugh and your pretty blue eyes and gorgeous freckles. I miss everything about you Mir. I know this is difficult, believe me, but I promise you that if you still want me, I'll make it up to you."</p><p>"I know you will...I'm sorry for sounding like a selfish bitch its just so so so hard going day after day without you. It feels like I'm missing a piece of myself, and I kind of am. You've been a part of me since we were like, eleven. I want you to be a part of my life, Matt."</p><p>"Hey, don't call yourself that, you're not. I want to be a part of your life too Mira, you know that. I am missing you just as much as you miss me. You have to know that."</p><p>"I do..."</p><p>"Okay then...so how are your parents?"</p><p>"They're fine. They ask about you sometimes. I give them an update whenever I have one, which isn't too often..."</p><p>"When I can't call, I send you letters. You've been getting them, no?"</p><p>"Letters? No..I haven't gotten any."</p><p>"What?? Mira, I promise, I've sent you like five of them! I'd never not contact you for months and months."</p><p>"Oh...well, I didn't get them." She sounds really sad and broken, which is so unlike her. </p><p>"God, Mira...no wonder why you're upset with me. I'm so sorry love...I would never not get in touch with you for that long. Something must have went wrong with the post. I swear to you that I sent them. I love you so much, you know that."</p><p>She sniffles. "I wish I could have read them, I didn't know if you forgot about me or what...I guess I'm glad to know that they got lost in the post...I was starting to worry that maybe you met someone or maybe you were no longer interested..."</p><p>"What? No. No way! Miranda Harrows I am deeply, irrevocably in love with you. I would never, ever forget about you, or drop you for someone else, or become uninterested, because that's not possible; you're too amazing. That doesn't change because I'm not in London. You mean the world to me."</p><p>She sighs shakily. "Okay good. Me too Matty. It's just been so long since I heard your voice, and I was starting to worry. I love you and I miss you so much that it feels like ages when I don't know if you're safe."</p><p>"I'm safe Mir. I'm safe and I'm going to have a strict talk with the postman."</p><p>"I'm glad you're okay. Unfortunately I have to go...I have a meeting at work. I don't want to say goodbye though, when will I hear from you next?"</p><p>"Me neither, but good luck in your meeting Mir. I love you too. I'll call tomorrow, I'm on days off."</p><p>"Yayyy. Alright, talk to you tomorrow." She makes a smooching noise in the phone and hangs up.</p><p>Matthew smiles softly but there is still an aching in his heart, longing for home, longing for her. It's only amplified by the fact that Molly has not been heard from yet, and she never ignores his calls. He tries her again, and again it goes to voicemail, causing him to really really worry.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>"Is it done?" Mycroft asks through his mobile. "Good. I want eyes on him for at least the next three months, if he doesn't do anything criminal or suspicious we can reassess. He may be the black sheep so to speak, but he's still a Moran, and any Moran not in prison is a bad one in my book, whether he was forced into a crime or not. Upgrade him to a level six surveillance, no inside protection." He hangs up and turns to Lady Smallwood, who has an eyebrow raised.</p><p>"So. Sullivan Moran is released to the general population of London, I must admit I never saw the day that a Moran would be innocent, did you?" </p><p>"Never. Then again, I never thought I'd see the day that my brother would fall in love" he says with a grimace on his face.</p><p>"Oh, it's not as bad as you think Mycroft. Everyone needs someone. Romantically or no, there's a certain...humanity about needing some sort of companion."</p><p>"There are some people who thrive off being alone instead, who don't need any sort of companion."</p><p>She laughs. "What, like you? Please, you're not fooling me Mycroft Holmes. I think you and me both know what happened to your...shall I say this delicately...humanity."</p><p>"I'm not lonely, Elizabeth."</p><p>"Oh I don't know. Would you truly notice if you were? There's a certain normalcy that one gets acclimated to for so long that they must begin to wonder if they are really experiencing what they are."</p><p>Mycroft rolls his eyes in dramatic fashion. "I think I need a drink."</p><p>She grins. "Mind if I join, you still owe me one."</p><p>"Fine, but try not to be petulant."</p><p>"Me? Petulant? That more applies to yourself, Mr. Alonetime."</p><p>Mycroft goes over to his decanter and glances at her out of the corner of his eye. "I'm not even going to entertain that with a response."</p><p>"No, best not. I usually have the last word." She smirks and holds out her glass. </p><p>Mycroft pours them some whiskey and settles back into his seat, shifting awkwardly.</p><p>"You really don't converse much unless its a security briefing, or a disaster with the Prime Minister, or a petty incident with your little brother. Basically anything that has to do with your work. Which leads me to wonder, who is Mycroft Holmes outside of the office? I may not be a Holmes, but I can deduce when someone is uncomfortable. The shifting of your weight in your seat, the inability to hold eye contact, the rate you're sipping your whiskey, the way you just go to speak and then realize you can't think of a damn thing to say that doesn't mention the government, or a meeting, or tomorrow's schedule."</p><p>"I am fine, thank you very much. I'm just rather fond of drinking alone."</p><p>"Ah yes, alone. Your favorite word. I think there is more to it though, isn't there? Tell me Mycroft, are you fond of me?" she quips.</p><p>Mycroft nearly chokes on his whiskey. "I'm sorry, what??"</p><p>"You heard me clearly the first time, don't pretend you didn't; you and I are both more intelligent than that."</p><p>"Fond of you? You're a great worker and a reliable confindate and an asset to the security team an-"</p><p>"You know what I mean Mycroft. A simple yes or no will do, I promise I won't get offended."</p><p>"I-...I don't know what you expect of me."</p><p>"I expect honesty."</p><p>"As always. I told you the ways in which I am fond, and I believe we should change the subject."</p><p>"We may be old Mr. Holmes, but we aren't dead. Keep that in mind, won't you?"</p><p>"Age comes to us all, no need to be alarmed over things you can't control."</p><p>"I'm not alarmed, just pointing it out. Live and let live." She holds up her glass then drinks her whiskey.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p> Sherlock holds back his emotion as he places his hands on the cold metal of the door handles. As much as he wants to walk out of that morgue and forget about everything, about emotion, about love, about Molly Hooper, he can't bring his feet to move. It's like he's cemented in place. Who is he kidding, he can't forget Molly Hooper, nor would he ever want to forget her. He would never do that to her or himself. She deserves to be remembered, and he's the best man to do just that. She deserves to be remembered. Sherlock decides to create one wing in his mind palace with everything he knows about Molly Hooper and keep in in the farthest corner, away from everything else. A place where it can be easily accessed by only him, but never close enough to come out in emotion. A place where he can go when needed, but will allow him to again be the emotionless, heartless machine that solves crimes just to get high. </p><p>As his curled fingers twitch where they rest, he rests his head against one of the doors. Why won't his feet move? Why can't he leave this place? There's nothing left for him here, nothing at all. He will never return to Bart's Morgue. He vows to use St. Thomas' morgue from now on, forgetting this place and never turning back. </p><p>Mustering up all of the strength he has inside him, he straightens up again and goes to pull the doors open when he hears a sharp, high pitched, strangled gasp. Sherlock freezes, every nerve inside of him suddenly awoken. "It can't be...no..it's impossible...it can't be.." his mind races, telling him over and over. Turning around ever so slowly as if he is in a horror movie, Sherlock moves his gaze to the previously still corpse of Molly Hooper, and scans his eyes over her.</p><p>Her chest is rising, ragged breaths can be heard, her fingers twitch. His eyes widen, still frozen. He must be dreaming. That's it. He must have passed out before. Sherlock slaps himself across the face. "Wake up, wake up!" he yells at himself, but remains the same. Oh God this is real. </p><p>"M-Mo..Molly...Molly!?" Sherlock runs over to her full force, jerking himself forward until his body its the hard slab and his arm is cradling her neck. "Oh my God..Molly??? Molly I'm here. Just breathe...you're doing a good job, just breathe!" he blurts out and strokes her cheek, tears returning down his own ashen face. </p><p>Moments later Sherlock Holmes is seen running through the halls of Bart's Hospital, making his way to the emergency department and holding the very zombie-like form of Molly Hooper, wrapped in a white morgue sheet that indubitably resembles the shade of her skin as she gasps for air.  </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. The Consequence of Context</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock rushes a zombie-like Molly to the Emergency Room; Greg has a terrible day; Mycroft has a conversation about the bombshell secrets he keeps with Lady Smallwood; Molly makes an improvement; Matthew receives painful news.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All Sherlock remembers of the past sixty minutes was her strangled influx of air, running, heart pounding, adrenaline, his cheeks wet and tear stung, his throat burning as he screamed. As if that weren't all a blur on its own, his mind can't even seem to recall anything after arriving in the Emergency Department; only a muffled echo of himself howling hoarsely and people, lots of people, ones in scrubs and sub-par doctor's coats that somehow pried her small body from his vice grip as his feet carried his dazed body after them.  He recognized the feeling of being pushed into a chair near her bedside as his body ached all over, coming down from the epinephrine high. An oxygen mask was thrust upon his face as he tried to tell them what happened, tried to articulate why he was in this state, but couldn't. Looking over, he had seen a smaller, but matching mask over Molly Hooper's own delicate yet gaunt face. She appeared to have slipped back into the realm of the unconscious, and himself into some catatonic state between reality and his completely fogged mind.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Without any sense of how much time has passed or how long he has been sitting stone still just staring at her, Sherlock slowly becomes aware of the methodical beeps of the machines and the forced pumps of oxygen into her lungs. He immediately snaps his gaze to the heart monitor, watching the steady yet not yet normal rhythm of her heartbeat colorfully dancing before him. Heartbeat...her heartbeat. Beating. It was beating, again. Sherlock takes a long drag of oxygen into his lungs as if it's a drug. Molly looks so small, so weak, so...so un-Molly-like. Hell, this woman is stronger than Sherlock Holmes; always has been, no question. She's the real hero of his story, and if he has a memorable one, he wants that small fact to become known, not forgotten in the thrill of the chase. </p><p>His eyes scan her snow-white form, a chill sending an involuntary shudder down his spine. He is overcome with the desire to reach out and touch her again, to wrap her in his arms the way she had wrapped him in hers on his worst days; the days he shook and vomited and very nearly died himself. For just a moment it crosses his mind that if he touches her, she just may break. In the past he has single-handedly broken her, hurt her lovely spirit. He would do anything in the world to stop that from happening, from ruining another life by his proximity to it.  Heart aching and heavy, the realization comes upon him that despite all his effort, all of his corrections, all of his emotional context, he will never be the man that could give Molly Hooper peace. The very last thing this new, emotional Sherlock Holmes would do, is waste this glorious woman's honour. Everything in her life to deserve a chance with him, a man who will render her broken without fault, who would die for her in secret, yet who would fight the devil on a daily basis, involuntarily entwining her within the devious details. Not on his watch, not for Molly Hooper. Never that for Molly Hooper. Not anymore. It ends now. </p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Greg sighs heavily and makes his way back to his office. Visiting the prison where Thomas Weston was being kept, he had tried as much as possible to keep his cool. The man was devastated to hear that his ex has passed due to his late confession. He had, however, told Lestrade of a possibly second burial ground where the "guinea pigs" had been dumped by Moran. Although not a strong lead, it was the only one he had, and so he sent the recovery team to the area. Arriving on the scene, he had walked up just as three of the five bodies were being removed from shallow graves, pieces of cheap wooden coffins strewn about, two others still unopened. It's no different from any other time he had seen a recovered corpse of a victim; he had seen many in various states, but something about this day, about the knowledge that Molly Hooper was cast aside as a revenge plot, and that her body could have been recovered in a much different state got to him. Suffice to say, the vomit all over the pavement told a much different story of the usually cool and collected Detective Inspector. As the boss on scene, he had recovered as quickly as he could, and unfortunately well enough to go and make the death notifications to the families. He can feel his heart taking hit after hit seeing the families of the victims unable to keep it together, sometimes screaming, collapsing, sobbing, cussing at him. </p><p>Ignoring everyone and anyone on the one track to his office, he finally gets there and quickly closes and locks the door. Leaning against it for a moment, his body feels as if it's on the verge of giving out from exhaustion and anguish. Then Gregory Lestrade, the amiable and ever charming Inspector, stumbles into his large office chair and tugs at his thick silver hair in emotional agony, finally dropping his now shaky resolve and breaks down, covering his worn face with both hands as quiet sobs wrack his being. </p><p>
  <em>The demons of the world never cease, and the fight against them is long, arduous, and worst of all, endless. For without demons, there would be no angels. There will be a Jim to every Sherlock, a Moran to every Molly, and the senseless death of an innocent for every miracle evil steals away. </em>
</p><p>"As Sherlock says", he thinks, "The game is never over". God help them.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Mycroft stares at his computer screen with a copy of the confirmation email stating that Matthew Hooper will be notified of his sister's unexpected passing within the next twenty-four hours, and that the army has been directly notified. He shakes his head and shuts the laptop, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes, remembering researching Margaret Hooper when Sherlock had first met her. He had a habit of looking into everyone his little brother had contact with back then, just in case they were drug dealers. All that reading about the "troubled" Hooper Family and all of the bad surrounding the mother, how the NSPCC had been involved when the father wanted custody, a court case, and of course, the hospitalization of the mother after she attempted suicide while sloshed, was interesting but not harmful to Sherlock in any way. The only beacon of light in that family was the father, Mark, who had been through enough battle during the war, but his moral principle for his children was victorious. "In this case, it was a lucky thing that he had gotten shot. Molly Hooper could've been a very different influence on Sherlock if not redeemed by her father" he thinks to himself. Of course he had died only five years after being awarded custody, leaving an eighteen-year-old Molly with an eight-year-old brother, now a soldier himself. Yet, despite sentiment, he saw her as a very strong and determined woman to put herself through Uni and raising a child as a teen, making what she wanted of her life. She wouldn't be such a terrible addition to the family if it was unavoidable, she worked very well with Sherlock, assisted him, aided him, helped save his life, consoled him and more in the years they have known one another. Mycroft inwardly praises himself for averting a crisis or two years ago that certainly would have changed the course of their working relationship, and otherwise.</p><p>Keeping secrets from Sherlock never usually holds, especially now that he knows all about Eurus, but Molly and Sherlock MUST remain in the dark about some things Mycroft was, possibly a bit illegally, involved in. It is justified only by the fact that knowing this would have impacted Sherlock's work and whatever personal life he has if either Molly or him ever knew. Not only that, but their entire dynamic. A spiraling Molly Hooper back into deep depression would not be useful to his brother, nor to the ever-evolving status of his heart towards the small yet fierce pathologist. Plus, dragging her backwards into misery and dredged up memories would not serve any good purpose. </p><p>Lady Smallwood comes into the room, pulling Mycroft out of his mind villa. His eyes open and he becomes aware. </p><p>"Remembering anything important?"</p><p>He draws in a breath. "Just...the Hoopers."</p><p>"Ah, I see. Feeling guilty now that Sherlock knows about Eurus?"</p><p>"Guilty? No. I have no reason to. I did what was best for my brother and Miss Hooper."</p><p>"Maybe the first time. I'd agree with you there, but the second? I think you keep too many secrets Mycroft. Also, you really are terrible with sibling relationships. Ordinary people are different."</p><p>"Yes, well I'm not going to be the one to throw a fly in the ointment, Elizabeth."</p><p>"I think they deserved to know. Regardless of Sherlock. This involved only Margaret and Matthew, and when he gets home I think at the very least he deserves to know, especially now that he's lacking any type of family."</p><p>"Not lacking..."</p><p>"Oh please, the boy pretty much is. I understand sheltering them because of Molly's relationship with your brother, but she's gone now. He does not need to know about Rebecca, we will save him that at least. But he does need to know about the others."</p><p>"Rebecca Hooper...world class daughter abuser, alcoholic, addict, and psychotic. I did a good thing by not telling her that her mother was released from the mental facility five years ago. I stand by that; my brother needed Miss Hooper at peak performance when he needed her assistance. I wasn't about to let her show up in Molly's life and destroy the so called "flow" they had when he needed the lab and morgue."</p><p>She smiles sweetly at him. "Well yes, that. Or maybe you have a soft spot for the woman who made your brother realize he was still, in fact your little brother. The one who feels and loves and protects those around him."</p><p>"I am not given to outburst of br-"</p><p>"Of brotherly compassion, yes you've mentioned. But I also know that actions speak louder than words sometimes, and strategically relocating Rebecca Hooper to Sherrinford all those years ago just so that he wouldn't lose the woman he was "slow burning" with speaks volumes. I must say, that is as compassionate as Mycroft Holmes gets. Not wanting your brother's love to get hurt for fear it will hurt him to see her that way. Wow."</p><p>Mycroft swallows a bit and shrugs. "More to do with how efficient he could be when I needed him for international cases."</p><p>"Bollocks and you know it. But as I said, you must tell her brother that he still has family. I doubt he remembers much from when he was six, seven, eight, but he's going through enough being involved in war. He's going to need a support system now that Molly's gone. You must tell him, Mycroft."</p><p>"Sherlock will be...absolutely furious. In the mental state he's in, I don't think that it's wise."</p><p>"This isn't about Sherlock, Mycroft. It's about a lonely young soldier who needs a family."</p><p>"Yes, but seeing as he was related to Molly, and was close to her, Sherlock will find out."</p><p>"It doesn't matter. It's what's best for the boy, and also for that eighteen-year-old girl and her mother, who has probably wondered about Mark's other children since."</p><p>"What exactly am I supposed to do? Bring Matthew here, tell him that I am the brother of his sister's sort-of boyfriend and that I know he has another sister that nobody knew about except me, the meddling government? Sherlock would find out that I not only hid his own sister from him, but Molly's from her, and what then?"</p><p>"You have many cover stories Mycroft, I don't know. But it's your responsibility. Give him a little bit of light, where there seems to be none. His father died after just finding out he was going to be a father again. I'm sure he would have told them if he had the chance, he would have given them a happy family, but he didn't get that chance."</p><p>"Meredith could have found them and told them about her involvement with their father, about Carly. But she didn't."</p><p>"What was she going to tell them? She had only met them once and then Mark died, and she found out she was pregnant. She couldn't take custody of Molly and Matthew because they were not her biological children, plus, Molly was eighteen. I don't think she would have been one to give her little brother to a woman she didn't know to raise just because she claimed she was pregnant with their father's baby."</p><p>Mycroft rubs his face. "I'll...figure out a way to tell him. After the funeral, after making sure Sherlock is on the 1A radar..."</p><p>"Two secret sisters...life really is a wonder sometimes. Just another thing Molly and your brother had in common, I suppose."</p><p>"I try to do what's best..."</p><p>"I know, but that doesn't mean it always is. You're right, Sherlock will be furious, but it'll be for her, because I think she would have loved to know that there were other people she could have turned to at her lowest. I think Miss Hooper would have loved to know that she had a little sister, or even an almost stepmother who cares. We both know her father wouldn't have kept that from them, and it's time the truth is revealed to Matthew, so at least he will have the support that Molly never did from Meredith and Carly."</p><p>"Alright, alright. I will tell him when he comes back to London, but after the funeral."</p><p>"Good."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>"What!? Sherlock...Sherlock! Okay! Alright! I'll be there as soon as I can! Yes! Okay, yes. I..I believe you. I'll be right there." John hangs up his phone and stares at it in disbelief for a moment. "Oh God.."</p><p>"Come on sweet pea, let's go and visit Hudders hm? He smiles a bit and scoops up Rosie, kissing her cheek. </p><p>"Ha-da!" </p><p>John laughs through teary eyes. "Yeah cutie, Hudders. Come on." He sends a quick text to let her know that they are going to stop by again, then brings Rosie to the car.</p><p>Back at Baker Street, John drops Rosie off with Martha, who is confused.</p><p>"Yes uhh...Sherlock called. Like, actually called. He dialed instead of texted, so I knew it was something very important. When I picked up he was rambling and I- I don’t know if he's in his right mind but he said he's still at Bart's and that Molly er...well, Sherlock said she "came back to life". I'm gonna go and see if he's alright. It might just be a cry for help."</p><p>"Oh John, take care of him..." her face falls, assuming Sherlock is messed up with grief.</p><p>"I'll do my best. I'm sorry about dropping her off again, it was just...odd, y’know?"</p><p>"Of course. We have to take care of our favorite man child hm?" she smiles softly, attempting to lighten the mood.</p><p>"Uh, yeah." He turns his attention to Rosie and squats down. "Rosie, Daddy's going to be back real soon okay? I'll be home for dinner. I love you. Have fun playing okay?"</p><p>Rosie grins up at him adorably, only half of her teeth grown in. "Wuh!" She looks at Mrs. Hudson. "Ha-da!" she squeals happily and toddles over, hugging her leg.</p><p>John smiles and kisses her cheeks. "I love you lots sweet girl."</p><p>"I'll let you know what's going on."</p><p>"Please do. Thank you John." She leads him out and then picks up Rosie. "That's new cutie pie. What's hada?" she giggles. "Well...I suppose I'll figure it out."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>John rushes into the emergency room almost immediately spotting Sherlock, who is now pacing around and bothering the nurses for information. </p><p>"Sherlock!? Hey. What's going on???"</p><p>"John!? John..John... John...they- they won't give me any information I NEED information. I need to know Molly is okay PLEASE! Make them tell me!!"</p><p>"Sherlock, calm down! Just..take a breath. Look at me. Tell me what is going on."</p><p>Sherlock looks at him, hands shaking and manic. "M-Molly...John, you're not going to believe it...Molly sh-she...John she's alive. She's alive! She's breathing! She woke up. I was in the morgue and she was on the slab dead and I remember crying and praying, and I don't even believe in God. A-and I was going to leave because I couldn't see her like that anymore and then she woke up. She just gasped like a zombie, John. Like a zombie! She's ALIVE!!" Sherlock hugs him tightly.</p><p> John stands there stiff and so very confused, hoping Sherlock isn't high. He pats his back a bit. "Sherlock..that's..good. Look, why don't you show me where she is, alright?"</p><p>"Right, right." Sherlock sniffs and tries to compose himself. "I-I need to know if she's going to be okay, I can't wait any longer. Please make them tell me, John."</p><p>"I will mate, just, let me see Molly first. Come on, lead the way."</p><p>Sherlock rushes back over to one of the open rooms. John follows cautiously and his face turns to shock at the sight of a newly alive Molly Hooper on a breathing machine and several intravenous lines. He watches Sherlock go over to her bedside and go to touch her hand then hesitates and pulls back. John goes over to them. </p><p>"Dear God...she's actually alive..." he gapes. "You know it's alright for you to...hold her hand or something."</p><p>"I can't...I can't John..I've hurt her too much."</p><p>"Sherlock it won't hurt her. In fact, she could probably feel your hand. It would most likely help her."</p><p>"I need to find out if she's going to recover. Please..."</p><p>"Uh, yeah sure I'll go ask." John rubs the back of his neck and goes to ask the nurse about Molly's condition. Sherlock swallows hard and just barely allows his fingertips to caress Molly's hands and wrist, taking her pulse just to assure himself he isn't dreaming, that she really is alive. When he feels her soft pulse, he tears up and slowly cups her hand in his, stroking her fingers. "Molly...I'm sorry." Sherlock chokes up and takes a shaky breath. </p><p>"I do love you...but I can't be around you. Never again. I can't allow myself the happiness to be in your presence anymore. The more you're tied to me, the more you'll get hurt. I hope that when you wake up, you'll never see me again..." </p><p>"I hope you're bloody well joking!" John barks at him, standing at the entrance to the room. </p><p>Sherlock goes to protest and John interrupts. "No! You're done speaking, you're going to listen now! Don't you fucking DARE leave her alone here William Sherlock Scott Holmes! She loves you, and you love her, and I swear to God if you smash her feelings after everything she has gone though, you will have NOBODY. I will make damn sure of that. You are NOT going to leave her behind anymore. You're not. You are going to stay and hold her hand and comfort her and take care of her the way a man that loves a woman DOES. No matter what you're feeling, SHE matters, not you. She's hurt, not you. She needs the man that she loves to be here and want to take care of her. That's you. You said you were going to try; well I'm not allowing you to quit. So get that through your thick skull and sit your ass down."</p><p>Sherlock swallows and slowly lowers into his seat again. "I-It's my fault that she almost died..." Tears form in his eyes. "People get hurt around me....people I never mean to hurt, die" he whispers and lowers his head, thinking of Mary. </p><p>John clenches his jaw a bit. "Sherlock, we are all adults and we are perfectly capable of making our own decisions and that's just it. It's OUR decision to be around you. We all know the risk, every single one of us. Me, Greg, Mrs. H, even Mary, and Molly. It's our choice. You have a dangerous job. A lot of people do, and you cannot control the world. The only person you can control is you. It's not your place to make decisions for us. You're our friend. As much of an utter cock as you can be, goddamn you're still our friend and we all care about you. We CHOOSE that risk. You love Molly...don't leave and take her decision away from her. It's her choice if she wants you. Frankly, I think you NEED her. So be fucking grateful that you got a second chance because that doesn't happen to anyone else!"</p><p>Sherlock fidgets with his hands and nods. "Okay...I'll-...I'll stay."</p><p>John nods sharply. "Good. They're going to bring her to the ICU soon. I have to go home and get dinner for Rosie, but I can come back tomorrow. Will you be alright? No more bugging the nurses."</p><p>"Yeah..I-I'll be fine. Thank You John..."</p><p>"Yeah, I'll let Mycroft and everyone know that she's alright."</p><p>"That's probably best, yeah."</p><p>John nods and leaves. </p><p>Hours later Molly is settled into her ICU room. Sherlock gently intertwines their fingers; those swift, steady, nimble fingers that work so effortlessly with a scalpel, those strong, gentle fingers that held back her sob during the phone call. He strokes them gently, listening to the whirr of her oxygen and beeps of her monitors. Sherlock keeps their hands intertwined and shifts to lay his head on the back of the chair, closing his eyes to doze. That's when he feels her fingers twitch, and his eyes shoot open again. He watches intently and they move again ever so slightly. </p><p>"Molly..?? Molly, I am here. You're in hospital. Can you hear me? It's Sherlock. Please Molly..."</p><p>Her fingers twitch for a few moments, then he notices eye movement behind her lids. "I'm here Molly. You're safe now...come back to me Molly..."</p><p>Molly feels lightheaded and realizes there's noise. Among those is a familiar deep baritone voice; Sherlock. Her eyes flutter softly and open a crack, half-blinded by the bright lights. She whimpers softly and blinks, her vision blurry at first then clearing, seeing Sherlock looking over her with tears filling his beautiful eyes. Her mind can't remember what happened for a moment and she peers up at him. She goes to speak but can't; her throat is so dry, and the words won't come out. That's when she realizes there's an oxygen mask on her face. "I'm in the hospital" she thinks. </p><p>Sherlock cries in relief, seeing his beautiful Molly looking up at him with her warm cocoa eyes. He leans down and very gently hugs her to him. "I love you" he murmurs, unable to muster anything else. He pulls back to look at her and a couple tears slip out of her eyes. "I'm here, you're safe now. Do you...remember...anything?"</p><p>Molly let's her tears fall, relief and love filling her heart when he told her he loved her, first thing. She nods to his question, memories of her kidnapping and terror flooding back. She squeezes his hand, registering the feeling that he is holding it. Sherlock smiles comfortingly which makes her feel more at ease.</p><p>"Molly, you can't talk yet, you're on oxygen. May need it for a little while, but I'm not going anywhere...I guess you'll have to listen to my incessant speak."</p><p>She flashes him a small but weak smile under the transparent mask, gently playing with his fingers, and looking deep into his oceanic eyes. </p><p>Sherlock looks into her eyes, so filled with love and a bit of fear still. He strokes her hair back from her face and kisses her forehead. "I know, you love me too. I've always known, I've seen it for a few years now. I'm sorry I've been such a dick...you matter most, and I see you now."</p><p>Molly sniffles and tears stream down her temples from her lying down position. Sherlock props the bed up a bit for her. </p><p>"Do...um..should...er...?"</p><p>Molly looks at him and nods motioning him closer. He smiles shyly and slowly climbs onto the cot next to her, pulling her close into his arms comfortingly. "I will always adore the way you can read me, Molly Hooper. Always. I am so grateful for you..." he murmurs as he kisses her temple. </p><p>She settles into his arms and shyly cuddles against his chest, feeling completely safe for the first time in years.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Matthew grins cutely, his phone call with Mira leaving an ethereal feeling in his chest. He tries Molly's cell again, and again it goes right to voicemail. It's been over twenty-four hours and he wonders if maybe she had to get a new phone and forgot the number. It would be just like her to drop in in a vat of brain matter or a bowl of guts. Chuckling to himself, he sends her an email and waits for her response. Suddenly he can hear his stomach growl angrily. "Well, off to the canteen then" he says to himself. </p><p>After eating a meal big enough for a family of three, he is very full and heads back to his room. One of the Captains is waiting at his door and asks him to come with them. Matt can't think of a single thing he did wrong, and tries not to make any facial expressions. "Yessir."</p><p>When they get to the general office, they ask him to sit and he salutes, then complies. The Captain picks up an envelope and holds it between his hands. "Lieutenant Hooper, I have been asked to call you here in confidence to speak on behalf of the British Government and the UK Army in regard to a matter back home."</p><p>He swallows, trying to keep a straight face. He can feel all the euphoria from speaking with Mira melt away from his body, which now stands at attention as if ready for a hit.  </p><p>"I regret to inform you that your sister has passed away unexpectedly." His Captain hands him the envelope. "This contains sensitive information regarding her passing. It also holds information about your bereavement leave. However, since you are scheduled to return home for a while, we have confirmed that your time may start now, and will officially begin after bereavement leave has taken effect. All your flight information is in there as well. We are truly sorry, Lieutenant. We're sorry..."</p><p>Matty's face stays frozen, his body feeling glued to his seat, but somehow, he gets up and walks back to his room as if on autopilot. Walking turns to jogging, and jogging to running. Tears threaten the dam of his eyes and sobs build in his chest. He feels as if he's been shot in the heart. "She can't be dead. Molly can't be dead." His mind yells how it is impossible, incomprehensible. "She's only thirty-three!" Reaching his room, he breaks down into sobs, the tears cascading over his eyelids and down his face like a waterfall. He is unable to move from against the door, stricken with an unimaginable emotional pain and the realization of being a true orphan. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. I'll Survive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock stays in hospital with Molly; John relays the good news to Greg; Mycroft briefs Matthew about Molly's ordeal; Matthew is reunited with the two women in his life; Molly makes a revelation to Sherlock</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The glow of the morning sun peeks up from behind the nearest tall building, shining it's rays through the long, vertical window of Molly's hospital room. Sherlock shifts on his cot uncomfortably, groaning as the brightness hits his face. He slowly sits up, rubbing his face. It's been nearly three days since he has gotten a decent amount of sleep. </p><p>Looking over at Molly, he sees her small, sleeping form on the stark white hospital bed, tubes and wires all still attached and giving her everything her body needs to properly heal from her scary ordeal. His body cracks as he stretches and yawns, scooting over to Molly's bed and gently holding her in his arms, careful not to tug on any tubes. Molly hums softly against his neck and her eyes flutter open gently, her warm brown eyes now a golden honey color due to the sun flickering upon them. </p><p>"Sherlock..."</p><p>"Yes Molly, I'm right here. How are you feeling today?"</p><p>"Mhh...sore."</p><p>"Well that's to be expected. Not only were you pricked in multiple places, but these beds are God awful for comfort."</p><p>She smiles sweetly and kisses his cheek. "You stayed."</p><p>"Of course I stayed, why would I ever leave you alone after what you went through. Molly Hooper, I doubt I will be leaving you alone for a very very long time. In fact, I may have to get Mycroft to out you on the 1A surveillance just to be sure that you are safe at all times."</p><p>Molly groans and shifts slightly. "That's really not necessary, Sherlock. I like my privacy."</p><p>"Even at the expense of your safety? Molly, I...I couldn't lose you", his voice softens and his face falls. "I can never lose you."</p><p>"We'll talk it over another time. I'll be alright. Did they catch them? The people who did that to me?"</p><p>Sherlock swallows the lump in his throat and kisses her forehead. "I...heard from Mycroft last night...I'm sorry Molly..."</p><p>Molly tears up. "They didn't catch them?"</p><p>"It was Sebastian Moran and the last remaining cronies from Moriarty's network. They're..very clever. They fled the country. I am so sorry...I'm just as pissed, believe me. I will KILL Moran if he ever steps foot in London again. Mycroft has eyes watching in case he ever does. Okay?"</p><p>"Okay", she says quietly and shakily. </p><p>"Molly, I'll protect you...I know that it's my fault and..."</p><p>"Sherlock, shh. It wasn't your fault. It was only theirs."</p><p>"Loving you made me weaker...made me lose focus and that put you in danger and I just..I keep wondering if..."</p><p>She puts a finger to his lips softly. "Stop. Right there. Stop. You loving me is why I'm here right now. It's why I'm alive. So don't you dare go and say that you can't love me after I nearly lost everything." Her eyes fill with tears. "Please don't..."</p><p>Sherlock bows his head, resting it in the crook of her neck and breathes her in. "I want to protect you."</p><p>"The best way to protect me is by being with me. Being around me. I love you, Sherlock."</p><p>"I-I love you too Molly."</p><p>"Then promise me you'll stay."</p><p>"Okay", he murmurs. "I'll stay...I'll keep trying, I'll keep being yours, Molly Hooper."</p><p>Molly runs her fingers through his curls, eliciting a soft groan of contentment from him. "And I will always be yours, Sherlock Holmes."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>"Does he know?? What do you mean he left before the message was given to him!? You need to get someone from his regime to find him and tell him NOW! Now Corporal!" Mycroft hangs up the phone angrily and huffs in frustration. </p><p>Lady Smallwood knocks gently before entering, looking flustered. "Mycroft, we have big news regarding the surveillance of Sullivan Moran...are you still trying to get in touch with Lieutenant Hooper's regime?"</p><p>"Yes, and getting nowhere! They say he left before they got word from us that it was a medical miracle that she pulled through after her heart stopped. How the hell are we supposed to backtrack now? For God's sake, he thinks she'd dead!"</p><p>"Yes, it's too bad it was a bit too late, though I'm glad Watson called to let you know that she had in fact woken up. I must say, it's a relief. Both for your brother, and in turn, you. He would have been absolutely monstrous to deal with through that sort of grief."</p><p>"Hmph..I suppose. What is it that you want me to know?"</p><p>"Well Sullivan Moran will no longer be an issue."</p><p>"And how so...he was just released from prison two days ago."</p><p>"Well, we believe that one of Sebastian Moran's snipers took care of him. He was shot in the head from a long range, most likely the top or inside of a building. We assume that they decided to get rid of him so he wouldn't talk about anything further."</p><p>"Well that's one less tie to the Moran family to worry about. Nothing to weep over. Less security to handle for us as well."</p><p>"That's true."</p><p>Mycroft rubs his temples. "So...Doctor Hooper is alive."</p><p>"Yes. We should get a car to pick up her brother at the airport and brief him on the incident...I'm sure he's very distraught."</p><p>"Good idea. Have Wilder go and hold a sign for him. When he gets back here, I will brief him personally."</p><p>"Are you sure you're the one who should?"</p><p>"Why shouldn't I? It was due to an enemy tie to my brother."</p><p>"Well yes, but I think maybe someone more...sensitive to his feelings should brief him. Plus, we don't want him to hate your brother if he plans on staying connected to Miss Hooper."</p><p>"It's possible that you're correct in thinking that's better...", he pauses for a moment. "Alright, fine. You can brief him."</p><p>"Me? Mycroft..."</p><p>"Yes, you. You're more sentimental and you're the only one I truly trust with my brother's affairs."</p><p>Elizabeth sighs and looks at him. "Okay, but you must be in the briefing to take notes to file."</p><p>Mycroft nods and pages Wilder, explaining for him to get to the airport and what gate to go to, to pick up Lieutenant Matthew Hooper.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>John rushes into New Scotland Yard and makes a beeline for Lestrade's office, unable to reach him the day before; the officers had claimed he went home early, and his cell was turned off. He flings his office door, causing Greg to jump a mile and look up from his coffee and paperwork, a donut in his hand. "Greg!"</p><p>Lestrade quickly puts down the donut and wipes his face. "Yeah, John? What is it, is there something wrong?"</p><p>"No! No..there's..there's something absolutely, incredibly right!"</p><p>"Wh-"</p><p>"Molly's alive! She's alive Greg, I saw her with my own two eyes, Sherlock..I thought he was using when he called me and told me she was alive, so I went to Bart's and there she was, breathing. Sherlock said she was lying dead on the slab and then she just gasped and sort of...came alive again. She's alive!"</p><p>"What??? Oh God...she's..she's...!?" Greg hops out of his seat in disbelief, running his hands through hair. </p><p>"She's alive!"</p><p>"Oh God..she's alive!" He laughs in pure relief and the two men hug and pat each other's backs.</p><p>"Jesus Christ...those two give us the worst fucking scares!"</p><p>"You're telling me!" John steps back and grins. "I'm just so damn relieved, for both of them, for Rosie, for...for everyone."</p><p>Lestrade takes a deep breath and rubs his face, still looking exhausted. "I am so happy that's she's going to be alright. She is going to be alright, right?"</p><p>"Yeah, yeah. Slowly, but surely. Sherlock texted me last night and said she woke up and seemed in her right mind. It's really sort of a miracle."</p><p>"Well, it's Sherlock. Nothing short of miracles would do, y'know?", he chuckles softly.</p><p>John snorts. "Yeah, as we know. Anyway, I just had to let you know. I told Mrs. Hudson last night and she was bawling her eyes out, and rightly so."</p><p>"Of course, she's very fond of Molly."</p><p>"I don't think there's many of us who aren't."</p><p>"True, she's a lovely woman."</p><p>"Yeah. Well, I'll let you get back to...business."</p><p>Greg flashes a smirk and nods. "Right, thanks again for letting me know John. I'm just so relieved."</p><p>"Of course Greg. I'll be seeing you."</p><p>"See you John."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Matthew steps off the plane with his gigantic army bag of belongings, sighing sadly. He makes his way through the crowds of people and through security, getting a few polite salutes, which he returns, forcing a smile upon his face. When he reaches the end of his gate and into the airport lobby, he sees a gigantic sign with his name on it. He furrows his brow and walks over to the unfamiliar old man with a quite impressive white mustache. The old man salutes him professionally, and Matthew returns it, noting that he must have a history of military service.</p><p>"Uh, hello. It's nice to meet you." Matt shakes his hand firmly. "May I ask who sent you?"</p><p>"My name is Mortimer Wilder, I work for the British Government. I have been sent to collect you for a briefing regarding your sister. Please, follow me to the car. Unfortunately I have no details for you, but the meeting place is not too far away."</p><p>"Okay, thanks...", his face falls and he mentally holds back his sadness, feeling tears pricking his eyeballs.</p><p>They walk to the black car and he loads his bag into the trunk, slipping into the back seat. Matt sits there quietly, bouncing his leg nervously. He does not exactly want to break down in front of a bunch of people at a government briefing, but assumes his Colonel set this up to help him, even though he wishes he could skip going. </p><p>After approximately twenty-five minutes, the car comes to a halt in front of a large white mansion with the number "10" emblazoned on the columns. Wilder gets out and helps him retrieve his bag, leading him into the building, then passes him off to another gentleman who doesn't speak. Matt looks around the large hallways as they make their way through them. Coming to a large door, it is opened to reveal a large conference room. There's a woman and a man standing there looking extremely professional and held to a high regard by their stances. </p><p>"Have a seat Lieutenant Hooper", the man says, and he complies, setting his bag down next to him on the floor. Both parties take a seat across the table from him. He swallows hard, and folds his hands together to keep from fidgeting them.</p><p>"My name is Lady Elizabeth Smallwood, and I am one of the Directors of National Security and Affairs. This is Mycroft Holmes, Head of National and International Security and Affairs. We have brought you here to speak with you about an incident regarding your sister. As you know, she has entered into a sort of relationship with the famous detective Sherlock Holmes. Is this correct?"</p><p>"Affirmative, ma'am. I know of their...relationship, however complicated. My sister and I have communicated when I was able."</p><p>She nods softly. "Mycroft Holmes is the elder brother of Sherlock, so we have taken it upon ourselves to inform you of the matter at hand, and how it transpired."</p><p>"Right..h-..", he clears his throat and continues. "How did she...die...?"</p><p>"Well that's what we wanted to brief you about..."</p><p>"Okay...well..?"</p><p>Elizabeth glances at Mycroft who sits back and bites his lip.</p><p>"Doctor Hooper was abducted by one of London's most notorious criminals, Mr. Moran, in revenge to a case that was solved by Sherlock Holmes many years ago which led to Moran's leader, and we suppose, lover, being killed. I regret to say that your sister was buried alive. Though she was found by Sherlock, his friend, and a D.I from Scotland Yard within six hours, she suffered suffocation. They did rush her to the closest hospital, but her heart stopped in the ambulance on the way there, despite their efforts."</p><p>Matty tears us and keeps his gaze fixed on his folded fists. </p><p>"She was in the morgue for approximately a half an hour. Sherlock was with her, and suddenly she just...began breathing again. I've never heard of anything like it before. But as of right now, she is alive, and she is recovering at Bart's ICU. She's going to be alright, Lieutenant Hooper."</p><p>"Wh-what..?" His eyes fill with tears that threaten to spill over, and he looks up at them in shock. "She's...oh my God, she's alive? She's not gone??"</p><p>"Right now, she is alive and recovering, yes." Lady Smallwood smiles at him softly and Matty covers his face, crying quietly in relief. </p><p>"Oh my God. I need to go see her. Please take me to see her."</p><p>Mycroft nods and salutes him, which Matt returns. They then shake hands. "My brother..he has a dangerous job, and an elaborate personality, but I can say with precision that he deeply cares for your sister. He did everything he could to prevent her from getting hurt."</p><p>"I've heard...I just want her to be safe and happy. She deserves that more than anyone, truly." He nods politely and leaves the same way he came.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Mira fusses over her sixth outfit, sighing into the mirror. A pale blue t-shirt and skinny jeans. Basic, but classic. She quickly twists her long red hair into two braids and checks her phone, seeing a text.</p><p>{Molly survived, she's alive!! It's a long story, but I am finally back in town. I'm on my way to Bart's hospital to see her. Am I still staying with you? I can't wait to see you, Mira. I love you. ❤️ xo Matty}</p><p>Her jaw drops a bit, and she gets butterflies in her stomach in anticipation to see him again. She has been missing him so much that it physically hurt. Yesterday Matty had told her that he got word that Molly was dead, and she had comforted him all the way to the airport on the phone. They had even cried together, and now she's alive? Texting him back, she can hardly contain her smile of both relief and happiness. </p><p>{OMG, really? I'm so glad she's okay! Of course you're staying with me, you better not stay away! I can't wait to see you either, I love you sooooo much Mattybear 😉 ~Mira}</p><p>{Oh noooo the pet name returnssss! xo Matty}</p><p>{Hey, I told you when you gifted me that gigantic Valentine's bear in the middle of the high school hallway that you'd never live it down! So now you're stuck with it forever! HA ~Mira}</p><p>{Ughhhhhh LOL. Okay, fine. But only in private! xo Matty}</p><p>{Oh, okayyy. See you soon!!! SQUEEEE! I'm so excited to see you. 😜 ~Mira}</p><p>Mira giggles, sitting on her bed; Matty chuckles slightly as well, looking out the window of the car. </p><p>{Me too love. I'll see you in a couple hours! ❤️ xo Matty}</p><p>{See you then! ~Mira}</p><p>Smirking, she grabs her keys and purse and heads out the door. There's no way she's waiting another two hours to see him.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>"Molly, you have to eat something."</p><p>"Sherlock, we both know the food is disgusting."</p><p>"Yes, but you NEED to eat. Please? For me?"</p><p>"Sherlock.."</p><p>"Jello? Sherbet? Anything."</p><p>Molly sighs and rubs her face. "Fine...gimme the jello."</p><p>Sherlock grins. "That's my girl."</p><p>"Oi you are so stubborn!", she says, rolling her eyes at him. </p><p>"Always, but to be fair, so are you."</p><p>"True." </p><p>Sherlock opens the orange jello and grabs a plastic spoon scooping some onto it. "Okay, open up."</p><p>"Oh my God, I can feed myself Sherlockkk."</p><p>He smirks and hands it to her gently. "Oh fine, I was just trying to be a nice boyfriend but fine, get your own way."</p><p>"Oh don't you start that", Molly giggles and eats a couple bites. She grins at him. "You used the word."</p><p>"I did."</p><p>"And?"</p><p>"And what?"</p><p>"Well..you weren't weird about it."</p><p>"I guess almost losing you made me see that some things are too trivial to care about, like what label we use."</p><p>She looks at him lovingly and he smiles softly, cupping her cheek and placing a soft kiss on her lips. Molly's eyes flutter and she puts down the jello, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing back deeper. </p><p>"Mmm...Molls..."</p><p>"Shh, I'll survive...", she murmurs as they continue to snog. </p><p>Suddenly they hear someone clear their throat and they pull away sheepishly, seeing one of the nurses standing there. "Oh, excuse me Doctor Hooper but you have a very important visitor."</p><p>"I do? Who?"</p><p>The nurse grins and turns towards the door, waving them in. Into the room walks Matthew, dressed in his military camouflage. Molly gasps and covers her mouth, nearly forgetting her wires and jumping out of bed.</p><p>"Molly! Molly, no, your wires!" Sherlock gently holds her back onto the bed. </p><p>She breaks down and Matty goes over to her, hugging her tightly and crying as well. Molly buries her face in his shoulder and sobs hard. "Oh...Matty...I missed you."</p><p>Matty sniffles and sobs softly. "I missed you. I..I thought you were gone."</p><p>"No, no, I'm right here. I'm right here..." she murmurs shakily and strokes his hair comfortingly. </p><p>He squeezes his eyes shut and holds her tightly. "I love you so much, Moll."</p><p>"I love you so much Matty. Oh, let me look at you." Molly pulls back and cradles his face, smiling through her tears. "Handsome as always, but a lot more mature than the last time I saw you."</p><p>He blushes softly, and moves her hands. "Shhhh, stop that."</p><p>"Oh! This is Sherlock Holmes, my er...boyfriend. Sherlock, this is my baby brother, Matty."</p><p>Sherlock smiles at how happy she is and shakes his hand. "It's very nice to meet you, Matthew. Molly has told me a lot about you. You keep her worrying, you know."</p><p>"Nice to meet you as well. She's talked about you too. I'm not the only one that makes her worry."</p><p>Sherlock bites his lip. "Yeah, well, that's certainly true." He leans over and kisses Molly's cheek. </p><p>Molly grins at Matt. "I worry about both of my boys. Now, are you okay? How are you doing? How long are you home? Did you see Mira yet?"</p><p>Sitting on the edge of her bed, he chuckles and squeezes her hand. "Oh wow, rapid fire already, okay then. Yes, I'm okay, I'm so much better now that I know you are too. I believe I'm home for a year. No, I haven't seen Mira yet. But I'm going to head there from here. I'll be staying with her now that she has her own flat."</p><p>"Ooh, so you're ditching me for your girl then, alright, I see how it is", she smirks.</p><p>"Hey, you have Sherlock now, and I am not ditching you, she lives like six blocks away" </p><p>"I know, I know I'm just teasing you! Of course you want to be with Mira."</p><p>He blushes and squeezes her hand. "I'm just so glad to be home. That you're still here..I don't know what I'd do if I lost you..."</p><p>Molly hugs him close and rubs his back. "It's alright, I'm okay now. You're not going to lose me so easily."</p><p>"I know...I love you." He kisses her cheek and grins boyishly. </p><p>"I love you too. I'll be okay here. Sherlock has been staying with me, so I'll be looked after for the time being."</p><p>"Good."</p><p>"God..it's just so amazing that you're here...I missed seeing your face and talking to you directly and being sure that you're unharmed."</p><p>Matt smiles softly. "Me too Moll. I'm upset that you got hurt and I wasn't here...I just want you to be safe too. I want you to be happy too...really happy", he throws a glance to Sherlock. "Look, I know what you've put her through over the years, and I know that you're supposedly a better person now. I know that she loves you with everything she has. But you have my word that if you /ever/ hurt her again, you will cease to see the light of day."</p><p>"Matthew Dominic Hooper!"</p><p>"No, no, he's right Molly. He's right." Sherlock looks at Matt. "I know my mistakes and I know I don't deserve her, not by a long shot. But she's shown me what love means, and what it is and can be. She's making me the man she already thought I could be. I love her, and I never want to see her hurt either. I promise you that."</p><p>Molly blushes. "Now, you both can stop because I can take care of myself, for the most part. I am not some damsel in distress."</p><p>Sherlock and Matt give each other a look. "We know, Molly."</p><p>"Well good. Now stop fussing over me. I can handle myself."</p><p>Molly glances towards the door and grins. "Matty, I think we have more company."</p><p>"Huh?" He turns around and gapes, seeing Miranda there. "Oh my God, Mira." Jumping up from the bed, he runs over and hugs her tightly, lifting her off of her feet and crying into her neck. She sobs into his neck and well, her arms tightly wound around his shoulders. They stay like that for awhile until he gently sets her down on her feet and cups her face. </p><p>Her eyes are filled with tears and she gently strokes his cheek. "I can't believe you're really here."</p><p>"I'm here...I'm home", he murmurs and puts his forehead on hers, then kisses her deeply.</p><p>She kisses back lovingly and clings to him as Molly giggles and cheers, clapping. They pull away, both flushed pink.</p><p>"You two are so cute, I'm glad you're reunited. Mira smiles shyly and goes over to Molly and hugs her gently. "I'm glad you're okay, you had us pretty upset for awhile there."</p><p>"Thank You, I'm relieved too. It was crazy, I remember struggling, and I sort of remember being dead, looking over my body. Then I remember being back, hearing Sherlock. I'm just glad to be here."</p><p>"Gosh that must have been really scary. Thank God you're alright now." Mira smiles and hands her a small pot of flowers that she brought. "I thought this might cheer you up."</p><p>"Oh, Mira they're beautiful, thank you", she smiles.</p><p>"Of course."</p><p>Matty smiles and wraps his arm around her waist, gently pulling her to his side and nuzzling her cheek. She blushes and looks at him lovingly.</p><p>"Alright you crazy kids, go and spend some much needed time together. I'll be fine."</p><p>Matty blushes and smiles shyly. "Are you sure, Moll? We can stay a bit if you want."</p><p>"Nooo, I'm sure the last place you want to be right now is sitting in a hospital. Go to Mira's, put on some comfy clothes and have a nice night. I'll be here, and hopefully I'll be home soon. You WILL visit me at the house right?"</p><p>He grins. "Okay, thanks sis. Yes I will be around. Just wait, you'll want to get rid of me again before the month is up!"</p><p>"Nah, I'd never want to get rid of you. I love ya too much. Now go on and get out of here." Molly beams happily, seeing how happy Matty is now that he is home and with her and Mira. </p><p>Matty leans down and kisses her cheek, giving her another hug. "Okay, we'll be going. I'm glad you're okay, and I love you. Call me if you need anything and I'll stop by your place and get it for you alright?"</p><p>She nods and smiles. "Alright, see you."</p><p>"See you tomorrow, love you."</p><p>Matty and Mira leave, his arm never leaving her waist, as if he would lose her if he let go. Molly smiles after them, then looks at Sherlock. "They're middle school sweethearts. I'm so happy for him. He deserves it. I'm glad she was still here for him to come home to."</p><p>"Well, I suppose a love like that never fades, does it? Especially one lasting that long."</p><p>"No, it doesn't. I would know", she smirks softly.</p><p>Sherlocks cheeks flush pink and he holds her hand. "I'm sorry it took me so long..."</p><p>"It doesn't matter, all that matters is that you're here now. I love you so much, Sherlock Holmes."</p><p>"And I love you so much, Molly Hooper."</p><p>Molly plays with his fingers. "I did sort of make a tiny white lie to them, though."</p><p>"Oh?"</p><p>"Yeah. As crazy as it sounds, I remember everything..."</p><p>"I don't follow...what do you mean?"</p><p>"Being alive, being dead...I remember being dead Sherlock. I remember seeing myself dead. I remember floating above the grave in the cemetery, I remember seeing myself on the slab, and I remember all the beautiful words you said to me, how much you sobbed.." Molly tears up.</p><p>Sherlock's brow furrows, and he nuzzles her cheek. "You do..? But...how is that possible?"</p><p>"Well, I suppose there are things beyond science that people still can't explain. But I remember it all vividly. And, I remember a bright white light. I was supposed to go into it, because I was dead, obviously. But I just couldn't shake the feeling that I could still come back to you. It turns out that it worked."</p><p>"Fascinating..."</p><p>"It was. Oh, by the way, is John dating again?"</p><p>"John? Yes...why?"</p><p>Molly beams with tears in her eyes. "Mary gives him her blessing."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Adjustment Jitters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Things happened over the course of the last few months; Molly returns to work after an emotional hiatus; John's girlfriend visits his home; Matthew and Mira have their first time; Molly crosses paths with an unfamiliar face with some interesting ties; Matthew has an episode of PTSD like his sister; Sherlock and Molly settle down for the night.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>When Molly had been released from hospital, everyone was relieved and welcomed her back into the crazy life that came with being with Sherlock Holmes and, incredulously, their entire friend group. It took her a couple months of therapy from a great woman by the name of Ella Thompson of whom John had recommended to her, to feel even the least bit normal again after everything she went through. Even though she was still jumpy at times and had some nightmares, her life was finally getting back on track and she was going to begin her first day back at Bart's. Sherlock had pretty much moved into her house full-time to ensure that she was "protected", the exception being when he was on a case and had use for 221B Baker Street. He was adamant that he wanted to be there, and their relationship was working well despite the obviously large hurdle they had to cross that came in the form of Molly's newfound trauma.</p><p>It helped greatly that her brother Matthew was now home from war for the time being and happy himself, being able to reconnect with his own love, Miranda Hayes, after four long years. Starting back where they left off, they could hardly keep away from each other.</p><p>John's new relationship with girlfriend Caroline seemed promising, and Rosie had taken a liking to her as well. When they had asked them to dinner at Molly's house, Molly had forced Sherlock to hold his breath about making a comment regarding John's type and a certain liking of "blondes". She was an all-around intelligent and kind woman, good for John in many ways.</p><p>Greg had been teasing Sherlock non-stop about being a man and not a machine, falling in love with the incredible Molly Hooper, and finding (and holding on to!) a woman that would allow him to continue to lead the psychotic chaos filled life that he was prone to.</p><p>Elizabeth had been pestering Mycroft to come out with the big secret about Molly's family, to tell her and her brother about their unknown sister and "almost" step-mother; to let them do what they may with the information. However, Mycroft had insisted that he would only when the time was right, and that Molly was dealing with too much at the moment to be able to handle it.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Molly rolls over, frustratedly turning off her alarm that signaled the beginning of her work week. The time had come to grab hold of her gumption and step back into the workforce. Rubbing her face, she groans. "I suppose it could be worse", she thinks to herself, "I could've had nightmares last night." After a moment of de-fogging her mind she feels a warm lump next to her. She turns to her side and sees Sherlock who smiles sleepily and pulls her close into his arms, nuzzling her neck. "Mmm...Sherlock..wh-"</p><p>"I finished the case early last night, but you were asleep when I got here. You looked cold, so I held you for a while, but I suppose I fell asleep too." A big smile spreads across his face. "Molly, you didn't have a nightmare last night."</p><p>Molly cuddles close to his warmth and runs her fingers through his curls, eliciting a small groan of contentment from him. "I'm always glad when you're home, and no, I didn't. I guess that's a step in the right direction. I have to get ready for work..."</p><p>Sherlock groans and holds her tighter, breathing her in and gently peppering her jaw and neck in kisses, smirking when her cheeks flush, spreading down to her chest. "Do you really have to go today...I could call Mike, you know how convincing I am..."</p><p>"Sherlock, you know I have to...", Molly says breathlessly, her small pants speeding up with every touch of his lips on her skin. They have yet to pass /that/ intimacy threshold, but he is becoming a lot softer and more comfortable around her in this way.</p><p>He groans softly and pulls back, looking into her warm cocoa brown eyes. Gently brushing his thumb along her cheek, he cups it and smiles his sweet, genuine, only-for-Molly smile that metaphorically makes her completely weak in the knees. "I know, but despite what I have ever thought about closeness, with you, it's absolutely intoxicating, and I find myself craving it when you are no longer in my arms."</p><p>Molly turns red and looks up at him, his gorgeous smile and sparkling oceanic eyes peering down into hers. "Is that so? Well I do too, but alas, we are adults and we have lives. Oh, the horror." She giggles a bit trying to thin out the thickness of their compatible tension.</p><p>He nods and leans down, pressing a soft yet breathtaking kiss to her lips for a few moments before hesitantly separating them from hers. "The horror indeed, however, I am very happy that you are feeling up to working again. And I will be checking in to be sure you aren't regretting the decision a bit later. Maybe for lunch."</p><p>Looking over his face and very much breathless from his lovely kiss, Molly nods and smiles at how far he has come in terms of "sentiment". "Lunch would be amazing Sherlock. I love you."</p><p>"I love you too. Now, you'd better get ready. Don't want to be late on your first day back."</p><p>"No wouldn't want to do that..." Molly murmurs, but internally groans, hating the fact that she has to leave this glorious man in her bed to go to her morgue. For God's sake he was shirtless, his curls were gorgeously disheveled from sleep as well as her fingers, and all she really /wanted/ to do at the moment was snog him silly until neither of them could breathe correctly and she had turned him into a man full of sensual need and desire. Unfortunately, what she did do was drag herself away from him and to her closet after grabbing her khakis from her dresser.</p><p>"Oh please Molly...not one of those ridiculously blinding jumpers. They do absolutely nothing for your beautiful figure."</p><p>"Ah, I see you're thinking like a warm-blooded man then Mr. Holmes."</p><p>Sherlock furrows his brow and sits up. "I don't understand."</p><p>"Well I'm shocked you haven't seen the obvious."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>Molly smirks and looks through her closet and giggles a bit.</p><p>"Tell me!"</p><p>"Well, you see Sherlock Holmes, these "ridiculously blinding jumpers" may not do anything for my figure, but I do work in a morgue. It gets very cold, and layers are best. If I didn't need the layers, I would be perfectly fine with only a blouse, but I do actually need a jumper. Plus, nobody is looking at my figure when I work with the dead", she snorts. "As for their blinding nature, as you so poetically put it, I like feeling colorful. It counteracts the drab and dreary aura of a morgue. So there you have it. It's not totally what I'd want to wear, but it's most practical."</p><p>Sherlock smirks. "Good for you Doctor Hooper. It's odd how I never saw the practicality of it, but then again that may just be because of the effect you have on me. Always have actually."</p><p>Molly chuckles and picks out a lavender blouse and a blue and gray swirled jumper as Sherlock makes a face. "Now, now. It's for work. No need for faces of disdain."</p><p>"Fine, no protests from me, BUT that is as long as you promise me that you'll wear more flattering and less blinding things on days off. Or else I will really need to see an eye doctor."</p><p>She laughs and ruffles his curls, kissing his cheek. "I usually wear jeans and fitted tees or blouses anyway, darling. I've just broken you in early by wearing joggers and oversized bed tees."</p><p>Sherlock gapes as she giggles and steps into the bathroom to change. "Heyyy!"</p><p>Molly changes and gets ready for work, sighing as she peers back at her reflection in the mirror. "Okay Molly. You can do this. You're a specialist registrar. You've got this", she mutters to herself. Stepping back into her room, she puts on her socks and her work loafers and throws her hair into her trademark ponytail. She notices that Sherlock is no longer there and goes into the sitting room, seeing him making coffee in the kitchen. "Wow this is nice."</p><p>"I figured I could do something to ease the morning. I can tell you're nervous, despite acting as if you're not. It's alright you know...you went through a lot and.. going there could be daunting for anyone after what you went through."</p><p>She sighs shakily and goes over to him, hugging his now clothed side. "I know...but I can't never go back. I went through too much school and too much experience to turn my back on it now. Also, I'm sure you'll be needing me for cases at some point. I don't know about the PTSD aspect of it but...I'll get through it."</p><p>Sherlock wraps his arm around her and kisses her head. "You will because you're you. You are one of the most resilient people I have ever known Margaret Hooper. I know that with therapy you can do this. Plus, I intend on making a bit more visits than I usually do to the morgue to be sure that you are alright. If you ever need someone there, just...to be there, you know I'll come when you ask."</p><p>Looking up at him, she tears up slightly and pulls him down into a kiss. "Thank you. I would do everything all over again if it meant having you here with me...I love you so much Sherlock."</p><p>Sherlock looks at her softly and strokes her cheek. "I love you so much, Molly. I may not always know what to do with all of your love, but I can promise you that I am trying my best. I don't deserve you, and I have always known that. But I know now that I can't live without you, and I will never take that for granted. And if I ever act ignorant to how important you are, I beg of you to slap me back into reality."</p><p>Molly grins, a beautiful blush on her cheeks. "I know how you are Sherlock, and I love you anyway. I always have, just as hyper, and clingy, and impossible as you are. Now, I should be going. I'll see you for lunch?"</p><p>Handing her the coffee thermos, he leans down and kisses her cheek. "Lunch it is. See you then. I'll try not to ravage the house while you're away."</p><p>"Sherlock!"</p><p>"Okay fine, I'll try to keep it tidy", he muses. "Maybe a small experiment on Toby though..."</p><p>"William Holmes!"</p><p>Sherlock cringes. "No!"</p><p>"You will not be experimenting on my fluffy feline. Do you understand?"</p><p>"Yessss M'aammmm" he whines. Molly giggles and kisses his cheek.</p><p>"Behave. See you later." Molly grabs her keys and takes off for Bart's in her bright yellow car.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Around 11:00am, Molly's bashful yet optimistic teen assistant comes in and lets her know who the next autopsy will be for. Of course today had to be the week that the local high school was allowing students to shadow in different departments within the hospital in order for those interested in the medical field to see if they want to go into medicine for University. She's a petite girl; fair skin, beautiful sky-blue eyes, a freckled face, and pale blonde hair. Molly is glad she didn't have a side braid today, as that was what the friendly teen's gorgeous blonde locks were entwined into.</p><p>
  
</p><p>"Thank you...er..I'm sorry, what's your name again?"</p><p>"Oh, um, I'm Carly."</p><p>"Well Carly, you're doing a lovely job today. You must be hungry though. Why don't you take an hour lunch and then meet me back here okay?"</p><p>Carly nods shyly. "Thanks ma'am..uh Doctor..uh.."</p><p>Molly smiles softly, remembering what it was like, even when she was an intern. "You can just call me Molly."</p><p>"Thanks Molly", she smiles sweetly and grabs her bag, leaving for the cafeteria.</p><p>Molly rolls out the next autopsy and a sudden sense of dread looms over her as she stares at the covered slab. Her temperature begins to rise and she feels warm, glancing at the clock. 11:15am. She looks quickly towards the door and her breathing quickens. Glancing around the room erratically, she notices the familiar dent in the diagonal refrigerator compartment and can feel herself sweating and her heart racing. Molly leans on the table and pants, suddenly feeling terrified as tears begin to run down her face.</p><p>Sherlock flings the double doors of the morgue open in classic fashion, smiling before seeing the state she is in. He runs over and wraps his arms around her, her knuckles white as she clings to the metal table. "Molly?? Molly tell me what's wrong??"</p><p>Molly turns and buries her face into his chest, sobbing brokenly. "I-I'm s-sorry..I.."</p><p>"Shhh...I'm here now. You're alright...I've got you." Sherlock murmurs softly into her hair and wraps the front flaps of his Belstaff around her shorter form.</p><p>"I'm just..I'm h-having..."</p><p>"...a panic attack, yes, I know." Sherlock sways and then leads her into her office, shutting the door with his foot and gently lowering her into her chair, before kneeling in front of her. He cups her cheek and gently strokes away the stray tears with his thumb. "PTSD...nobody would blame you Molly. It's only your first day back and for what you went through...you're strong for even being here. It's only been three months."</p><p>Molly's tears subside and she focuses on breathing, concentrating on Sherlock's concerned face. Once she has it mostly under control, she throws her arms around his neck and he in turn, snakes his around her middle, holding her close against him. "I know you probably don't want to talk about it right now, but you should eat something."</p><p>"Sherlock, I'm not hungry", she murmurs into his shoulder.</p><p>"I know. I know you aren't, but you made me promise that we would hold each other accountable the other day, remember? Sometimes we need to eat...old habits die hard, but you and me, we need to."</p><p>She pulls back just slightly and Sherlock cradles her face. "I saw Mike on my way in, he said you had a helper today. I figured we could go out for lunch, but if you don’t have time we can stop by the cafe. They have grilled cheese or pasta with meat sauce. I'd go for the grilled cheese."</p><p>Molly chuckles softly and rubs under her eyes. "Okay...I'll go with you."</p><p>"Good, okay.", Sherlock smiles gently and takes her hand, leading her out the doors and to the cafeteria.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Matthew lugs the grocery bags into Miranda's flat, huffing and puffing from the stairs. "Jesus, I'm supposed to be in the best physical shape and your stairs still kill me Mir!"</p><p>She laughs and follows him in with a few more, closing the door with her elbow. "Hey! It's not just the stairs! You are adamant about eating as much as a freaking whale."</p><p>"I'm a guy!"</p><p>"Yeah, a damn hungry one. Constantly!"</p><p>"Maybe", he snorts.</p><p>They begin putting the groceries away, falling into a pattern as if they lived together for years. Matty glances over at her and grins handsomely. "What?"</p><p>"Nothing...you're just...so beautiful."</p><p>Mira blushes deeply, her cheeks nearly matching the shade of her hair. "Stoppp", she chuckles, covering her face.</p><p>"Nooo because it's true." He finishes putting away the rest of the items, which he was holding and goes over to her wrapping his arms around her from behind. She giggles and smiles brightly, looking back at him.</p><p>"Well hello."</p><p>"Hello gorgeous."</p><p>"Matty!"</p><p>Matty smirks and kisses her neck playfully as she laughs softly, reaching behind to tousle his hair. "I love you."</p><p>"I love you too, always."</p><p>He nuzzles her cheek and turns her around to face him, pulling her into a deep and passionate kiss and holding her hips. She gasps a bit but melts into it, snaking her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. "Mmm", he hums on her lips.</p><p>Mira leans into it, gently sliding her tongue against his, the both of them moaning softly with the sensation until they are forced to part for oxygen. Panting she gently strokes his cheek, then his lips. She looks up at him with bright, but dilated eyes. "I'm so glad you're home with me..." she murmurs, moving onto her tiptoes to kiss his ear.</p><p>Matty shudders in response and gently scoops her up in his arms, holding her around his waist as he grins at their more level height. "I am too, my love."</p><p>"That was an incredible snog."</p><p>"It was. Would you like some more?"</p><p>"God yesss', she laughs as he carries her upstairs to her room. Once there, he sets her down on her bed and climbs on as well, hovering over her and capturing her lips in another searing kiss; she reciprocates with a hunger they haven't had since he day before he left for the Army.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>John goes into Rosie's room, hearing her wake from her nap. They were getting sparser the older she got. He's lucky she'll even take one at this point.</p><p>"Addy!" Rosie grins and hold her arms out to him.</p><p>"Hello my sweet girl", John grins and scoops her out of her crib. He changes her nappy then carries her downstairs. "What do you want to play with?"</p><p>Rosie points to her pink and purple themed blocks and grins. "Bocks!"</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>"Blocks? You've got it." John grabs the bag and empties them on the floor for her, sitting cross-legged across from her. He tries for the hundredth time to teach her how to keep them stacked, however, she insists on knocking them over even when they're only four blocks high, unable to contain her anticipation. John chuckles when she knocks them down, and hears the doorbell ring. "Ooh, who could that be Rosie?" John gets up and opens the door, grinning when he sees his girlfriend standing there. "Caroline! What are you doing here?"</p><p>        </p><p>"I actually had a business meeting at one of my boss's homes a couple blocks away so I thought I'd stop by. I hope I'm not intruding?"</p><p>"No, no never." John lets her in and kisses her gently. "I always love seeing you. You know that."</p><p>Caroline smiles beautifully, her smile lines matching John's and her blue eyes twinkling. "Oh, good afternoon Miss Rosie!"</p><p>Rosie looks up and sees her squealing happily. She runs over and hugs her leg. "Cah-lin!"</p><p>She scoops her up and hugs her. "Are you having fun with your daddy?"</p><p>Rosie nods and grins, pointing at her blocks. "Bocks!"</p><p>"Blocks, I see that. That looks like a lot of fun sweetie." Rosie squirms and Caroline chuckles, setting her back on her feet to run back to her toys.</p><p>"No cases today darling?"</p><p>John leads her to the sofa and sits. "No, no. Nothing today. It's good to have an actual day off sometimes. Between the clinic and Sherlock...things get crazy. I love time with Rosie, and of course with you."</p><p>"That's good! I thought maybe I could make us dinner tonight if you'd like?"</p><p>"Wow, yeah, that would be great. What do you have in mind?"</p><p>"I could grab some steaks, maybe asparagus and mash?"</p><p>"Sounds delicious."</p><p>"I think some wine could be in order too."</p><p>John chuckles. "I think that's a good idea. It may be my day off but chasing after this little one all day is exhausting too. I'm sure business meetings aren't the most exhilarating either."</p><p>"No, no they're not", she laughs. John chuckles and wraps an arm around her, throwing on the telly as she leans into his hold.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Matthew rolls over onto his back and gently pulls Mira close into his arms, pulling the sheets over them. Both of them are sweating and panting hard. Mira nuzzles his neck, gently stroking his bare chest with her fingertips.</p><p>"So..."</p><p>"That was..."</p><p>"Mmmm..."</p><p>Mira giggles softly, her breathing still labored. "God...Matty, that was better than I ever imagined. You have no idea how nervous I was and how much I've thought about you the last four years. I wouldn't have wanted my first time with anyone else. Honestly, I don't really want any time to be with anyone else."</p><p>He swirls her hair between his fingers lazily and blushes softly. "You're incredible. I thought about you all the time, sometimes wondering how this would have been if we had gotten the chance before I left. But I'm kinda glad we were forced to wait, because this was everything I could've ever expected and more. I know it was a little awkward at first, but we'll learn and grow together hm? I wouldn't want this with anyone else either Mira. I love you so much."</p><p>"I love you more than anyone in the world, Matthew Hooper." She gazes up at him and he captures her lips in a soft and gentle kiss, a contrast to moments ago.</p><p>He strokes her cheek and looks into her eyes lovingly. "I have a feeling it's going to be even harder leaving this time...", his face falls and looks sad.</p><p>"Shh...I don't even want to think about that right now...you're here now, and we are together, and right now, that is all that matters, okay?", she tears up slightly.</p><p>He nods, "Okay...I'm sorry." He swallows the lump in his throat.</p><p>"It's okay", she whispers and strokes his chest. "I just want you to love me and to enjoy being here while you are."</p><p>"I can absolutely do that, love."</p><p>Mira smiles softly and cuddles into him. Within moments they are both asleep in each other's arms.</p><p>Hours pass, and Miranda is awoken by shouts and screams. She jolts awake and looks over to see Matthew thrashing around in the sheets and yelling out names. "Matty!?" She rubs his back gently, not wanting to get in front of an elbow. "Matty...wake up! Come on wake up! Matthew! Mattybear!" Gently shaking his shoulders, his body calms down a bit and she cups his face. "Matty...it's me, it's Miranda. Please wake up!"</p><p>He shakes his head and blinks, his eyes opening slowly. Looking up at her, he breaks down into sobs and pulls her onto his chest, clinging to her. "I-I'm s-sorry Mira...I..I'm..I'm so sorry."</p><p>"Shhh...I'm here my love. I'm right here Matty." Mira peppers his face in soft kisses as he sobs hard. "I'm here...I got you. Tell me about it..."</p><p>Matty tries to speak through the sobs wracking his body, terrible flashbacks of war haunting his dreams. "M-my friends...a few of my friends...they were hit by a roadside bomb. I-I saw...I saw them get in, and I was feet behind them. I-...I saw the entire thing explode. I should've been in there with them, but I was chosen to carry the extra supplies...oh God..."</p><p>Mira tears up and hugs him tighter. "Oh Matty...", she rocks him and rubs his back. He nuzzles his face into her neck.</p><p>"Please don't let go...please."</p><p>"Never...I've got you. Let it out..."</p><p>Holding her close against his skin, he sobs, unable to escape the flashing images in his head when he tries to sleep, guilt of bothering Mira with it thrown into his emotional meltdown as well.</p><p>"Matty I love you. I love you so much and I'm here forever. I am here, through anything. I promise."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>After her first day at Saint Bartholomew's Pathology Department, Carly climbs into her mom's car.</p><p>"Sooo, how was it sweetheart?"</p><p>"It was great. The Doctor lady that I worked with was very nice. At first she seemed a bit confused that a sixteen year old could be interested in death and chemicals and forensic stuff, but then I think she realized that she was once me so...it was nice. She's really really smart, mum."</p><p>"I'm glad you enjoyed your day. I hope the rest of the week is just as good", she smiles and drives back to their home.</p><p>"Me too. I don’t think she noticed, but you want to know something super weird?"</p><p>"What's that?"</p><p>"Well...we have the same last name. Isn't that crazy? How many Hoopers would you think are in London!" Carly chuckles.</p><p>Meredith's eyes widen and she grips the steering wheel. "What?"</p><p>"Yeah, isn't that freaky? I'll have to ask her."</p><p>"No, just...let it be."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"Because...because..." she sighs.</p><p>"Mum...what? You're worrying me."</p><p>"I haven't had that talk with you yet..."</p><p>"What talk, mum..??"</p><p>"The talk about your father. I mean, I know I've told you about him and how wonderful he was and how much he would have adored you, but I...I haven't told you the whole story."</p><p>Carly looks over at her and bites her lip. "What aren't you telling me?"</p><p>"Let's get home and settled, and...I'll explain everything."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Tossing her bag onto the nearest chair, Molly rips her coat off and flings it onto the coat rack. Sherlock comes rushing out from the bathroom with a pair of goggles on. "Molly! You're home!"</p><p>Molly collapses onto the sofa and huffs; Toby hops up and nuzzles her arm. "Yes, finally." She pets Toby and glances up and looks at him. "Wh-...Do I even want to ask why you're wearing goggles?"</p><p>"Uhhhhmmmm....it's all fine."</p><p>"Sherlock", she says in a warning tone.</p><p>"I'll clean it up! I swear. I'm going right now. See? Going!" Sherlock rushes back to the bathroom and she rolls her eyes, looking at Toby. "He is absolutely nuts, Tobes. You're lucky you've lasted this long unscathed."</p><p>Molly gets up and goes to "the" bedroom, quickly changing into her oversized pjs and her glasses, then goes to the kitchen to see what they have for dinner, finding only frozen meals or soup. Groaning she returns to the sofa. "Sherlock!"</p><p>An echoey shout comes from down the hall. "Almost finished! Give me a minute!"</p><p>"Pizza alright!?"</p><p>"Yeah!"</p><p>Molly smiles a bit and orders a pizza on her phone. Sherlock comes out a few moments later and puts his goggles away. "So erm...maybe wait until the morning to shower."</p><p>"Oh my God, what did you do?"</p><p>"Nothing just...shower in the morning to be safe."</p><p>Molly raises an eyebrow. "Please tell me you did not destroy my bathtub."</p><p>"I did not destroy your bathtub...I just kinda messed it up a bit. But it's fine now!"</p><p>"Ugh...it had better be."</p><p>Sherlock grins and kisses her cheek. "So...how was the rest of your day, after lunch? How's the girl?"</p><p>"It was really busy, so I had to rush a little bit, but it still came naturally. I thought I'd have more trouble going back than I did, aside from...y'know, the episode. Carly was amazing, she's a bit of a natural, and she helped speed things along. She's going to be an amazing pathologist one day. I hope I'm still there to work with her. That is if she doesn't take over my job."</p><p>"Noooo, nobody could ever take over. There is only one Molly Hooper. That, I can promise you. Oh, I wanted to ask if John could come over for dinner tomorrow. Just him. We have a smallish case. Shouldn't take us more than the day to solve.</p><p>"Sure, he's welcome whenever."</p><p>"Thanks...maybe you could tell him about...what happened. If you feel you can talk about it."</p><p>"About...? Ohh..About Mary. Yeah, I've meant to it just never seemed like the right time. I'll tell him. I hope it will help him more than sadden him. I'm still shocked that I can remember it. It's like a dream."</p><p>"I think it's magnificent...and I'm glad to know you weren't alone. That terrified me..."</p><p>Molly ruffles his curls and kisses him lovingly. "Mmm...as long as I have you, I'll never be alone again."</p><p> </p><p>Sherlock grins and cuddles close to her, laying his head on her chest and hums contentedly like a second cat, as she strokes through his curls. "Me too."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Lasting Effects of Secrecy: Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Carly gets the whole truth from her mother, Meredith; Meredith has a flashback to Mark Hooper's final hours; Lady Smallwood scolds Mycroft for acting too late; the release of a prisoner is pondered; Matthew and Mira have a romantic evening; John visits Molly and Sherlock's home for a nice dinner; Molly tells John the truth about her out of body experience; Mycroft crashes a friendly dinner with a looming secret to tell Molly about her family.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Carly tosses her bag down near the door and flops onto the sofa. "Well? I want to hear everything, and I want the truth Mum."</p><p>"Alright...well...", Meredith sits with her on the sofa, turning towards her. "I told you how he was a soldier and how we met once he was released on honorable discharge because he was shot, and he recovered and such, and how he got cancer a few years later and we met right before he was diagnosed."</p><p>"Yes...but what else, what didn't you tell me?"</p><p>She sighs deeply and swallows. "Okay...your father was married a long long time before we ever met, and he has two other children. Obviously, they are older than you. I only met them briefly, as your Dad and I's relationship was still fairly new, even though he was sick. They were sweet. Molly and Matthew..."</p><p>"Molly...as in...oh my God, Mum!"</p><p>"Yes, as in Doctor Molly Hooper, the woman you must be training with. She's...your sister. Well, half-sister. You must realize though, that since your Dad and I were never able to get married because he died sooner than we both thought, there was no way for me to adopt them, and Molly was already eighteen at the time, so she took custody of Matthew. I honestly had no idea where they went after that. That's the truth. I had no clue that she worked at Bart's. They didn't really know me, hon. I wasn't going to just pop up and tell them that I had some sort of authority over them, because I didn't. Shortly after your dad died, I found out I was pregnant with you. I would've given anything for him to have met you. He would have adored you, Carly, just like he adored Molly and Matthew."</p><p>Carly tears up and looks at her hands, trying to process everything. Her mum scoots over and hugs her close, stroking her hair. "Your Daddy was the love of my life. I had never met a man so kind and so loving. I know he's looking out for all of you. He was an angel when he was alive, so I have no doubt that he is now too."</p><p>"They don't know...about...me...us.."</p><p>"I don't think they would have remembered me. And...no, they don't know about you. I'm sorry. I really did lose track of them after a bit. Like I told you, I wasn't their mother, and legally, I wasn't their step-mother either."</p><p>She nods and gently plays with the slightly worn engagement ring on her mum's finger. "I'm sorry he died...", she says quietly, sniffling.</p><p>Meredith tears up. "Me too sweetie. I miss him every day", she sniffs. Carly hugs her close and sighs softly.</p><p>"Hey Mum...?"</p><p>"Yes?"</p><p>"Would you ever date again?"</p><p>After a few moments of silence, she replies softly. "I don't think so. I don't think I would ever find anyone who could quite compare to him. Plus, even though he's been gone for a long time, I just...I think I would feel guilty. I still love him too much, I always will."</p><p>Carly nods quietly and hugs her tighter. "I hope I can find someone like that someday. I wish I knew him. Maybe if I get to know Molly, she can tell me more about him."</p><p>"I don't want to cause her a heart attack Carly, she doesn't know about us...I don't know if it's the best idea to just...tell her Dad had another child. She'd be shell-shocked."</p><p>"I'll figure it out..."</p><p>"Are you sure, Carly?"</p><p>"Mum, she's my sister. I've always wanted a sister, and apparently I have a brother too. It's important to me."</p><p>"I can understand that...okay. If she accepts it, maybe you can invite them over some time."</p><p>"Yeah, that would be nice."</p><p>~</p><p>
  <em>{{ Mark laughs and pulls her close, peppering her with kisses. "Meredith Lawton, you are the most incredible girl I've ever met, you know that?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She laughs in return and swats his chest playfully. "I am far from a girl, but thank you."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Ah well, I think in some ways we are still young at heart. That's what matters right?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You're right, you're right", she chuckles and kisses his jaw playfully.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He grins and nuzzles her neck. "Thank You..."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"For what?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"For staying, for loving me, for not...running when you realized I was sick and probably won't last."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Any time I have with you is precious to me. You are an amazing man, Mark Declan Hooper. I'm so incredibly happy that you came into my life. You make me feel whole, happy, and loved. You being sick doesn't change that, it only makes me appreciate you more. That's the truth."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He smiles sadly and pulls her close against him, stroking her cheek. "I'm happy that you came into my life too Mer, I want us to be a family. I want my kids to have a mother they can depend on, to tell them that they deserve happiness and care. I want to have a wife I can trust with their lives and my life. I want you to feel appreciated too."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I want nothing more, Mark; you make me feel appreciated every day and I can't wait to marry you. I know it's only a week away, and you're going to tell the kids. I'm actually glad we decided to go to town hall and have it small and intimate with just us and the kids. Hopefully they'll warm up to me because they seem like really sweet children. I know we've only been dating half a year, but...I do know without a shadow of a doubt that you're the man I'm meant to be with. I'd want this no matter what. Cancer or no. I love you with everything I am."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Mark kisses her tenderly and strokes her cheek, closing his eyes and suddenly trying to catch his breath. She hurriedly grabs his oxygen mask and places it over his face, trying to keep a straight face. "They'll love you...I love you too, so much", he whispers breathlessly as she places the mask on.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I know you do; you've shown me over and over again. Just rest now, okay love?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He nods slowly and cuddles her close to his chest, his eyes slipping closed. He removes the mask in the middle of the night, feeling a little better and placing a kiss to her head as she dozes on his chest. He pulls the blanket up closer to her shoulders and drifts back to sleep. The next day he is transported to the hospital having a lot of difficulty breathing, his lungs slowly giving out. Molly is in and out of his hospital room, sometimes alone and sometimes with Matty, kindly being polite to Meredith, not thinking they were that serious at the time, and her eighteen year old mind not quite focusing her attention on the context.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Very early the next morning, when nobody was within his dreary room, Mark D. Hooper, age forty-one, died helplessly, his lungs finally failing him. Of course his children were destroyed, and Meredith's heart was broken, mourning the loss of the love of her life, and the fact that she never got to marry him. It wasn't until six weeks later that it was mended just slightly, upon finding out she was pregnant with his third and final child. }}</em>
</p><p>
  <em>~</em>
</p><p>The next day, Carly works alongside Molly again, this time meticulously watching her every move and having light conversation with her, never quite working up the nerve to bring up their heritage just yet, but making progress in having her as a sort of a confidante in the medical field. She speaks with her about Universities and programs she may enjoy when the time comes, Molly's input valuable seeing how renowned and awarded she is in her field.</p><p>
  <em>~~~~~~~</em>
</p><p>Lady Smallwood huffs as she comes into Mycroft's office. "She's working with her now, Mycroft. Remember the student shadow program? Turns out she's following in her big sister's footsteps, literally. You've waited much too long, as I had warned you and now look. It has brought us here. You always said there were no such thing as coincidences and the world is rarely so lazy. It brought them together because you would not."</p><p>"Yes, yes, alright. You have made your point. I'll have to drop by Doctor Hooper's home and make the announcement after dinner."</p><p>"John Watson will be there tonight, they're having a friendly dinner to discuss the comings and goings of their lives."</p><p>"Mhh, it's quite possible he can prevent Sherlock, or even Molly from attacking me over the news. Probably best."</p><p>"Or he could join them."</p><p>"That's a chance I'll have to take, apparently."</p><p>She snickers. "Well, good luck with that, Mycroft."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>John knocks on Molly's door and she greets him kindly, waving him inside. He smiles softly at her and then at Sherlock who is playing violin on the sofa, Toby curled up on his lap.</p><p>"Rosie at Mrs. Hudson's?"</p><p>"Yeah of course", John smiles softly. "So, Molly. You're looking well. I'm so glad you've made a full recovery."</p><p>"Yeah, well, physically anyway", she smiles slightly.</p><p>"Right. Is Ella helping you at all?"</p><p>"Oh, yeah. She's very sweet. She's helping me a lot, just er..."</p><p>"Nightmares..."</p><p>"Yeah, nightmares."</p><p>"I'm sorry Molly. Believe me I know, they suck. But hopefully they'll fade out eventually like they did for me. Plus, you have Sherlock now. I hope he's helping you. Isn't that right Sherlock??"</p><p>Sherlock stops playing and puts his violin away carefully, sauntering over to them. "Of course I am helping her John, she is my Molly."</p><p>Molly blushes a bit and looks up at him, smiling shyly. Sherlock smirks and kisses her cheek.</p><p>"God, I don't know when I'll get used to this!", John exclaims.</p><p>Sherlock chuckles in his deep baritone and places a hand on Molly's back.</p><p>"Oh! The chicken should be ready fairly soon. John, would you like a beer?"</p><p>"Oh yeah sure, that would be great Molly, thanks."</p><p>She smiles, "No problem." Molly goes to the kitchen and grabs one for John and one for Sherlock, who both thank her. "So, John, how is your dating life? Caroline is really sweet. I enjoyed getting to know her a little the last time she was here."</p><p>John grins and folds his hands, peering at them shyly. "Yeah, she's...she's great. Really. I mean...I never thought that I would find anyone that made me feel as...as good as Mary did", he says sadly. "It almost makes me feel guilty, but I know in my heart that Mary would want this for me, and for Rosie. She was just like that; selfless and sweet, so understanding."</p><p>Molly swallows the lump in her throat and looks at him. "John, you're right. Mary would want this for you. She told me that does want you to be happy, and she's thrilled that you found someone that puts a smile on your face again..."</p><p>Sherlock gives Molly a look that screams: <em>"I thought you were going to lead into this and not blurt it out"</em></p><p>Sherlock clears his throat and blurts out, "Well, I think that's a discussion that needs a bit more time and much more backstory."</p><p>John looks from one to the other, confused. "Wait, Molly...what do you mean Mary told you...and Sherlock, what do you know about it, and how come I don't??"</p><p>Sherlock and Molly sigh in unison and look at John wearily. Molly speaks up first. "John, it's a long story, and pretty unbelievable...it's probably best if we save the story for after dinner."</p><p>"Molly, if this is regarding Mary, I want to hear it now."</p><p>Molly looks over at Sherlock for strength, and then plays with her fingers a bit. "Alright, that's fair. Well...it actually started when I...died...."</p><p>Two checks of the chicken and a half hour later, Molly finally finishes telling John all of the details about herself and Mary, and how incredible it is for her to even remember what it was like being a ghost or a spirit or whatever else they wanted to call it. Tears stream down John's face and Sherlock hands him a tissue.</p><p>John's voice trembles as he speaks. "She...she said all of those things? She's alright...with...Caroline? She's been keeping an eye on Rosie?"</p><p>Molly sniffles and nods softly. "Yes. She wants to be around to see your happiness, Rosie's happiness."</p><p>John looks down at his hands and sniffs, taking a breath. "I want her to find peace...I know that when she first died I was adamant to keep her alive in my mind and I was open to seeing...whatever I saw, but I do want her to find peace. I will always want that for her. I loved her; I still do. She's the mother of my daughter. I will always hold her inside my heart."</p><p>Sherlock looks a bit solemn and clears his throat. "I know she can hear you, John. Especially with everything Molly has said. I have no choice to believe that because Molly never fibs, and if she says it happened, it happened. Mary will be looking out for you, but I do agree that she deserves peace as well. I think we all do."</p><p>Molly nods and goes to the kitchen, taking the food out of the oven and plating everything. Sherlock comes up behind her and gently wraps his arms around her middle, setting his chin on her shoulder. "I know that was difficult... but thank you, for telling him. I think he really needed it."</p><p>She turns in his arms and places a soft kiss to his lips. "Me too. I'm glad to give him a little more closure."</p><p>"How was work today? I didn't really get a chance to ask, and I was so busy I couldn't stop by. I'm sorry...were you alright?"</p><p>Molly smiles softly and nods. "Yeah, I was okay today. Carly was really helpful. She's such a smart kid, I like working with her. I may just miss her when she goes back to class", she chuckles.</p><p>Sherlock chuckles and kisses her cheek. "That's good then, I suppose." He helps her bring the food to the table and grabs the wine from the rack, popping the cork open and pouring some for all three of them as they sit down to eat.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Tom paces in his cell, sighing and leaning against the wall, his head hung low. He has one more day to go until his release. Hearing word that his cousin has skipped the country, he feels an aura of relief, hoping against hope that he will be able to finally turn his life around and leave all the crime, murder, blood, gore, and destruction in the past and become a normal citizen of London like the general public. Maybe, just maybe, he could even find another woman like Molly Hooper to have a real life with. All he craves is redemption, and he is so thankful when news floated around about Molly's miraculous survival. There was a true part of him that loved her, but he would never disturb her again simply because of that. Well, that, and the fact that she was finally with the man she truly loved: Sherlock Holmes.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Miranda comes home from work, a bit tired and ready to put on her pajamas. As he enters her flat, Matty is there and he gives her one of his sweet handsome grins that always lightens up her mood. "Hey you!"</p><p>"Hey", she returns the smile and gives him a peck on the lips. "I'm going to shower and throw on some pajamas, okay?"</p><p>"Yeah, I actually made dinner so it should be ready when you get out of the shower. How does pork chops sound?"</p><p>"Ooh, sounds great. Honestly, I'm starved so I think anything would sound amazing right now anyway", she chuckles.</p><p>He nods and gently pulls her close, rubbing her back and giving her a soft, lingering kiss, which she eagerly returns.</p><p>"Mmm, go on and I'll get everything ready."</p><p>Miranda smiles at him lovingly. "Okay babe, thanks for making dinner, that was really sweet of you."</p><p>"Any time." He winks and goes back to the kitchen to finish checking on dinner.</p><p>Mira goes upstairs and showers quickly, changing into lounge clothes. When she goes downstairs, she notices the lights are dimmed and she smiles, peeking into the kitchen and dining area. She sees the table all set and there are candles and flowers on it, their dinners set out. Suddenly she feels his arms snake around her middle from behind and a gentle kiss on the side of her neck. "Do you like it?"</p><p>"Oh Matty, it's beautiful", she says softly, turning towards him and stroking his cheek. "Thank You"</p><p>Matty nuzzles her nose gently and kisses her softly. "No need to thank me. I wanted to. You deserve it." He escorts her to her chair and pulls it out for her then helps her push in and sits himself down, smiling cutely at her before they dig into their meals.</p><p>When they are full and all the dishes are cleaned, Matt takes her hand and leads her into the sitting room, as she gazes at him, slightly confused. He bites his lip and turns on the stereo, which plays soft classical music, then pulls her close in his arms and begins to dance with her.</p><p>"Matty...", she whispers and peers up at him.</p><p>"Yes, my love?"</p><p>Mira looks into his eyes and strokes his cheek. "I love you."</p><p>"I love you too. More than time or distance or challenge. Nothing will ever stop me from being in love with you; not ever."</p><p>She tears up and nuzzles his nose gently, swaying with him to the music and taking in the comforting feeling of being united with him, even if it's just for the moment.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Mrs. Hudson chuckles as she cleans up Rosie from her dinner. The little girl was the sweetest, but she makes some pretty big messes. However, it's no different than cleaning up after customers when she was under-staffed at Speedy's, so it was no issue for her. Rosie grins, chocolate covering her face and hands from the special chocolate cupcake Martha had promised her if she ate up all of her grilled cheese like a good girl. She squeals happily and shows her messy hands to her. "Uh-oh!", she giggles. "Choc-it!"</p><p>Martha laughs gently and wipes down her hands with a warm, damp dishcloth. "Yes, I see that Rosie, you are such a chocolate mess, aren't you? You must have really liked your cupcake!"</p><p>Rosie nods happily and smiles adorably before her face is cleaned up just as her hands were a moment before.</p><p>"Well, let's change you for bed, hmm sweetie pie? I'm sure your dad will be grateful if you are in your little onesie before he gets back from Aunt Molly's house. I'm just grateful that none of it landed up in your pretty curls for once."</p><p>She giggles and raises her arms to Martha, allowing her to slip her out of the portable highchair that she can store in her large kitchen closet. She almost immediately cuddles close to her, laying her little head on her shoulder, enjoying the smell of "Hudders" light perfume, the one that smelled like safety and of calmness. Martha carries her over to her room and changes her, then slips her soft, fuzzy, footie onesie on her. It's Rosie's absolute favorite: Pale pink throughout, with little flower vines embroidered on the sleeves and violet feet to keep hers warm at night as she sleeps in her crib.</p><p>"There we go Miss Rosie. All cuddled up warm for the night", Mrs. Hudson smiles fondly at how small she looks on the big bed.</p><p>Rosie grins cutely and pulls her feet up to her head, rolling around on the bed and giggling. Martha laughs softly and scoops her up. "Come on now, before you get hurt and fall off. Why don't we go and read some stories? Would you like that?"</p><p>Rosie nods and points to the array of books she has in her sitting room. "'ook!"</p><p>Mrs. Hudson chuckles, "Well those ones are a bit too old for you yet silly, but your Daddy packed a few for you. Let's start with those." She takes them out and sits on her sofa with her, cuddling the tiny girl into her side as she begins to read.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>John sets his utensils onto his plate and wipes his mouth. "Wow Molly, you can really cook. Dinner was fantastic."</p><p>Molly blushes and smiles softly. "Thank you, John. That's very kind of you to say."</p><p>"She really can, I've only noticed that recently myself. She can bake too. She may even get me fat at some point", Sherlock chuckles. "You know, despite my /remarkable/ metabolism", he smirks, and John rolls his eyes, scoffing.</p><p>"Cock."</p><p>"Yeah, I know." He laughs and gets up, assisting Molly with the dishes. After a few minutes Sherlock straightens up and a look of annoyance crosses his face.</p><p>Molly squints a bit, curiously. "Sherlock?"</p><p>"Mycroft is here. What the hell is he doing here!?"</p><p>Molly bites her lip. "Well, I'm not sure, but it must be important, don't you think?"</p><p>"It's always /important/ in his book, and I am not in the mood for his games. I never am, frankly."</p><p>John sighs and places the last dish in the dishwasher. "He is a bit much to handle, but then again it runs in the family."</p><p>Sherlock snarls a bit in frustration and advances to the door quickly, flinging it open to see Mycroft on the stoop, leaning on his umbrella, his finger hovering over the doorbell.</p><p>"For God's sake Mycroft, stop loitering by the door and get it over with. The quicker you express your unnecessary verbiage, the faster we can get you back out the door."</p><p>Mycroft strides inside the home, taking a look around. "Well, it's about time you've taken up residence at a much nicer location, little brother. Albeit, you're not alone anymore."</p><p>"Yes, yes, yes. Spill it."</p><p>"Unfortunately, brother mine, this is a conversation that needs to be held with care, and is, however alarming to you, not even regarding you. I've come to speak with Doctor Hooper."</p><p>"Why? What do you want with Molly?" Sherlock gently pulls Molly to his side and she looks up at Mycroft, a bit shocked as well.</p><p>John furrows his brow and speaks up. "Now, what kind of game are you playing Mycroft? Seeing if Molly is a good enough match for Sherlock? Playing big brother? I think that's a bit humiliating don’t you think? Even you know that Molly is a remarkable woman, and if there is anyone that Sherlock could possibly thrive with, it's her."</p><p>"Please, Doctor Watson. Don't you think I know that? We experienced the same sight, and sounds, all those months ago. No, I've come, as I said, on a sensitive matter that pertains to Doctor Hooper and her family only. So, if you two don't mind..." Mycroft motions for John and Sherlock to leave the room.</p><p>Molly crosses her arms. "Mycroft, Sherlock is my family. And so is John now, I am his daughter's godmother. Anything you have to speak with me about can be spoken about with them present. I assure you."</p><p>Mycroft sighs and motions them towards the sitting room. "Fine", he says bitterly. "But this is not a pleasant thing for me to come out with so you must bear with me."</p><p>They all sit around and look at him expectedly. Sherlock tightens his jaw. "Why the hell do I get the feeling you are about to say something that is nearly as big as when you finally came to me about Eurus?" he snaps.</p><p>"Unfortunately blud, it's quite similar. I suppose the backstory should come first. Well...without saying why, as it is extremely confidential, the British Government became interested in the Hooper Family back when Molly's mother was in the picture, and her father was in active duty. From there we kept an eye on them."</p><p>Sherlock wraps an arm around Molly's shoulder, knowing that speak of her mother is an extremely sore spot for her, due to the abuse, and her father is due to the loss.</p><p> </p><p>Mycroft takes a slow breath. "I suppose this is where this long-winded story begins..."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Lasting Effects of Secrecy: Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Mycroft reveals a secret to Molly about her family; Tom is released from prison, but his happiness doesn't last; Lestrade angrily reams out Mycroft for negligence; Sherlock has to break bad news to Molly; Matthew has a breakdown from haunting memories and takes action in the worst way; Molly meets her new family member for the first time since knowing of her identity.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mycroft explains how six months before he died, Molly's father met Meredith when he was in the city and they instantly formed a connection. Soon after they began dating, but her didn't mention it to Molly or Matthew because he thought it would be too much for them to handle, especially after the news that he was dying. Mycroft tells them that after he died, Meredith found out that she was pregnant.</p><p>Molly's jaw drops and she covers her mouth in shock. Sherlock furrows his brow and rubs Molly's back.</p><p>"S-so...so...what you're saying is that...Matthew and I...we have a little sister??"</p><p>"Yes. Unfortunately, your father never got to know or to meet her."</p><p>Molly tears up and hugs Sherlock. He holds her close and sways, rubbing her back.</p><p>"The woman in his hospital room..."</p><p>"Yes, that was Meredith. Your father proposed to her two days before he died. They were going to wed the following week after he discussed it with you and Matthew."</p><p>"So...he really loved her?"</p><p>"It would appear so."</p><p>"Where are they? When can I meet them?"</p><p>"Well, you already have. Your sister, at least."</p><p>"Mycroft Holmes, what the hell do you mean I already have??"</p><p>He sighs deeply. "The reason I came to tell you this tonight is because you already met her. In fact, she is a lot like you, Molly."</p><p>"Explain. Now."</p><p>"Well, you have been working with her for two days now."</p><p>Molly's eyes widen and she tears up. "You mean...oh my God. But..."</p><p>"Clearly, she looks like her mother, but she definitely has the Hooper brain."</p><p>"Carly?? Carly is my sister??"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Oh my God...oh my God..." Tears fall down her face and she sits, looking completely shell-shocked. "She's...so sweet."</p><p>"Now that you know, you can do what you may with the information. I do not have knowledge of whether her mother has told her about you, you'll have to figure that one out on your own."</p><p>Molly sighs. "Can you just...go now...I need some time to process this."</p><p>"Ahh yes, the power of a feeble mind needs time to go through the motions of emotion."</p><p>"Mycroft GET OUT!" Sherlock roars at him.</p><p>Mycroft sighs and picks up his umbrella, pausing a moment. "Doctor Hooper, I do hope all is well in the end." With that he strides out the door.</p><p>John places a hand on Molly's shoulder and sighs. "He can be such a prick, I can't believe..well, actually I can believe that he kept this from you. But I'm sorry all the same. I'll let you and Sherlock have some alone time. I should probably pick up Rosie anyway."</p><p>Sherlock nods slowly and Molly sniffles, giving John a light hug. "Thanks, John. I'm sorry you had to be here for that. And I'm sorry dinner was ruined."</p><p>"No, Molly, dinner wasn't ruined. It was lovely. Thanks for having me again. Sherlock, I'll see you soon."</p><p>"Bye, John."</p><p>John grabs his keys and exits. Molly can't help herself from erupting into sobs and clinging to Sherlock as he cradles her into his chest. "I-I can't believe this...I-I can't believe after losing my Dad and knowing how much I loved him that Mycroft would keep his other daughter away from me. She's my baby sister! I could have known her growing up, I-I could've been there for her. Matty too."</p><p>"I know how you feel...really I do. But I also know that it must be a bit harder because of the loss of your Dad. Plus, your sister seems sweet, not a psychopath."</p><p>Molly can't help but chuckle at Sherlock's attempt to lighten the mood with a bit of morbid humor. She looks up at him and cups his cheek, gently brushing her thumb over his prominent cheekbone. "I love you..."</p><p>"I love you too", he smiles softly and kisses her forehead. Molly goes up on her tiptoes and kisses his lips softly. Sherlock slips his arms around her waist and kisses back, humming softly, enjoying the softness of her velvety lips against his own.</p><p>Molly's eyes flutter and she slinks her arms around his neck, pulling him down and deepening the kiss. They both moan against one another, and Sherlock gently slips his hands under her shirt onto her Snow-White skin, ghosting his fingers over her sides. She shudders in response and gently pushes him against the wall, snogging him harder and more desperately.</p><p>Sherlock's mind swirls with thoughts of only her, and how he absolutely made the right choice to be hers. He kisses back just as heatedly, sliding his tongue against hers and eliciting another delicious moan before they both pull away for some much needed oxygen. Sherlock cups her face as he pants hard, looking into her eyes.</p><p>Molly stares up into his eyes, blushing as she sees how dilated they are and knows that hers must be too.</p><p>"You are so beautiful, Molly."</p><p>Her cheeks burn brighter and she smiles shyly. "You are so handsome, Sherlock."</p><p>He leans down and hugs her close and she hugs back. "I'm sorry..."</p><p>"Shh. I told you, I'm not going anywhere. We have all the time in the world."</p><p>Sherlock brushes his thumb over her lips in the most intimate way she has ever felt, and she swallows hard, need welling up inside her. She carefully moves away from him and kisses the top of his hand and he blushes a bit. "I'm s-" He is cut off by Molly pressing a finger to his lips.</p><p>"Don't be."</p><p>Sherlock swallows and she smiles softly. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed. Could you just clear the dishes? I can put them in the dishwasher when I get out."</p><p>"Yeah, sure Molls." As she leaves the room he sighs, internally scolding himself for not giving himself over to her the way he wants. His body is clearly ready for the next step, but his mind hasn't exactly caught up. Per usual.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Tom takes a large gulp of fresh air and sighs, calling for a cab from the kitchen. He can finally go home to his tiny, insignificant flat in the middle of London and begin his new life. He hoped that his cousin never ever comes back to mess with his life again. He would rather make his deceased father proud. He's a good person inside, but life just had a way of throwing him into his family's unfortunate and disgusting way of life. He's the only one who can make a good name for his own family going forward.</p><p>However, his body is wracked with worry as he enters the cab and stares absently out of its window. He heard the news through guard that Sebastian had his own twin brother killed as well when he found out he was getting released from the terrorism charges he was blackmailed into. Tom wracks his hands, concerned about whether he should worry for his own life if they had a sniper stay around for Sullivan. No doubt they know that he betrayed them by talking to New Scotland Yard. Sweating and tired, he sighs and tries to calm himself, trying to convince himself that the threats are over and they are gone for good, or at least for years.</p><p>The cabbie pulls up at his little flat, four blocks away from where 221B is, closer to the hustle and bustle of city life. Tom ruffles through his wallet shakily and pulls out bills, paying him and steps out, the sun pouring onto his back. He smiles to himself at the warmth, it's the first time he has smiled since he was forced to break the engagement with Molly Hooper. He looks at the calm pale blue of his front door emblazoned with an "1881" and moves toward it, reaching for the knocker. He had a habit of holding it to steady the door as he turned the key in the lock.</p><p>
  <em>{Operation Magpie is go. xSM}</em>
</p><p>Suddenly Tom Weston's hope for a new life turns black as his vision. The crack shot, trained by Moran, had taken the final shot for now. Tom's body sags face first against the pale blue door, bright red blood spray all over it, blood and part of his brain pouring from the holes in his head. The bullet had passed straight through the back, through his brain, and out his forehead, lodging deep inside his front door. Onlookers scream in terror at the sight and cower in fear that they may be next.</p><p>Moments later police rush to the scene and Detective Inspector Lestrade's car screeches to a halt as he rushes out. His face goes slack as he realizes who the victim is.</p><p>"Dear God..." he grovels.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Later that evening Greg goes to meet with Mycroft and storms into his office. "Why the bloody hell didn't you have him in witness protection!? You KNEW what happened to the other one and you let it bloody happen to him!"</p><p>"Ah, good evening Detective Inspector, how nice to see you as well."</p><p>"Cut the niceties, Mycroft. We have been working together in an official capacity for months. I was under the impression he would have been in witness protection, WHY wasn't he??", Greg's anger flares up.</p><p>"Well, as you know his family had skipped the country, so there was no plausible threat to..."</p><p>"No plausible threat!? Bullshit! You knew that a sniper had killed his other cousin and hadn't been apprehended. You knew there were people still working for Moran scattered around London. So, WHY? If you're so damn bloody /smart/, how could you not put two and two together?</p><p>Mycroft sighs. Lestrade clenches his jaw and moves towards him.</p><p>"You did know, you just didn't want to save him after the ties he had with his family, after what they did to Sherlock and Molly. YOU got sentimental."</p><p>"No."</p><p>"Yes! Yes, you did! Go figure the one time you let your guard down it gets a perfectly alright man killed just because of who his family is. You cannot help who your blood is tied to Mycroft, you know that better than anyone! He was a remorseful kid, he was on the road to making himself a better man, to building a normal life for himself. I spoke with him; I could see it. You must remember I'm a pretty good judge of character, I gave your brother a damn chance years ago when you were nowhere to be found for him. /I/ brought him from the brink of an overdose, /I/ took him to rehab, and /I/ gave him a job. Oh, yeah, and /I/ introduced him to his now girlfriend. So, you playing all high and mighty, I've had enough. It's too much. You either do your fucking job, or you don't. You can't pick and choose what lives to save. You're not God! He was thirty-four years old, Mycroft. He was practically a kid. He had an entire plan to rewrite his life and do good to try and balance his family's wrongs. Of course I hate their family. I HATE them for what they did to Molly, and to Sherlock. But this guy never killed anyone, he refused to. He got beat and tortured by his own cousin for it. He was a GOOD soul despite being raised to be bad. Too bad you haven't the slightest clue as to what a soul is."</p><p>Mycroft take a swig of his bourbon and sighs. "Are you finished?"</p><p>"Yes. I should think so. Now I'm going to go and help the commonwealth plan a funeral because he has no family or real friends. Oh, I'll have to call Sherlock too and let him know not to let Molly go to work tomorrow. No use giving her another panic attack." Greg storms back out in a huff.</p><p>Mycroft closes his eyes and reclines in his chair a bit, knowing that in all his worry for Sherlock and Molly, this oversight was a drastic mistake.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Sherlock's phone rings that evening and he glances over at Molly before answering. "Yes, Lestrade?"</p><p>"Hey Sherlock."</p><p>"I know we don't do social calls so do get to the point." Molly throws him a look and he clears his throat. "I mean...do go on."</p><p>"Well I don't have the best news. I mean...not for Molly anyway."</p><p>"What is it...?"</p><p>"Well...uhh.."</p><p>"Lestrade spit it out!"</p><p>"Tom was killed today. He was released for his cooperation in recovering Molly and we assume his cousin kept a crack shot behind to finish the job. Shot right outside his flat in broad daylight."</p><p>"Oh..." Sherlock's mind battles with itself to choose the right emotion; he, of course is thrilled Tom will never be a nuisance again, but there's a part of him that knew Molly would still be devastated and he wasn't sure how much more shock she could take tonight.</p><p>"Yeah...I uh, just wanted you to know so that Molly doesn't go to work tomorrow. Could be more trauma for her...seeing him like...that."</p><p>"Right...I'll handle it. Um...thanks, Greg."</p><p>"Of course. Bye."</p><p>"Bye." Sherlock hangs up slowly, unsure of how to go about telling Molly the news.</p><p>"Sherlock?", she asks softly. "What was that about? Do you have another case?"</p><p>"No..nothing like that."</p><p>"Oh, alright. Well...what is it then?"</p><p>Sherlock goes over to her and sits next to her, gently drawing her into his warm and inviting arms. Molly furrows her brow and looks up at him with her curious brown eyes.</p><p>"So...Lestrade gave me some news. Probably...er..definitely..bad news. And you shouldn't go to work tomorrow."</p><p>"What? Why?"</p><p>Sherlock sighs and runs his fingers through his curls. "I don't know how much more of a shock you can take tonight..."</p><p>"Sherlock. I'm a big girl. I can handle it. Just tell me, please."</p><p>He searches her face for a moment then chews his lip. "Tom...is dead."</p><p>She processes for a moment then her face falls and she looks down, wringing her hands and tearing up. Sherlock holds her close.</p><p>"Remember how I explained that he was tied to the Morans? How he was Sebastian's cousin? Well...they had him killed, same as Moran's own brother. Tying up loose ends..."</p><p>Molly sniffles and tears fall down her face. "H-he was the one that told you all where I was...where...", her voice cracks and she gently cries into his chest. "Oh God...he didn't deserve /that/. I-..."</p><p>Sherlock rocks her gently and strokes her hair. "I am sorry...Lestrade doesn't want you to go in tomorrow because...you know."</p><p>"The autopsy..."</p><p>"Exactly."</p><p>"But I have to..I-I have to...or I'll never want to go back, and I have to Sherlock."</p><p>"Molly...that's too much, even for you. You knew him, you...you were engaged to him, you loved him in a way."</p><p>Tears fall down her face. "He really loved me...that I could tell. He wasn't a bad man...he didn't deserve to be killed. God...if he never met me.."</p><p>"Molly, no. Stop that. Right now. It's not your fault. He was probably sent to you from Moran just like Jim used himself with you to get close to me."</p><p>Molly looks angry. "Not every man I dated, dated me to get close to you! How dare you say that!"</p><p>"No! No, Molly that's not what I mean. I'm just saying Tom because he's a Moran. Plus, he knew where you were, clearly he was working for them. I'm sorry, I don't want to cause you any more pain. I don't Molly."</p><p>Tears continue to trickle down her face and she covers it, sobbing softly. "That's not fair. He wasn't supposed to be like that...neither was Jim...I just wanted to be happy. I know I used him too in a way. I never wanted Tom to be killed..."</p><p>"I know that, Molly. I know. Come here...I've got you now." Sherlock wraps his arms tightly around her as she buries her face in his chest sadly.</p><p>"Life has never been fair to you, and for that I am sorry. I never purposely intended to incorporate myself into how unfairly you have been treated, but I did, and I will always, always regret that. Molly...you did not deserve any of it. None of it. Not from me, not from your mother, not from your exes. You didn't deserve to lose your dad so young, to be assaulted, to lose your child, to go through Uni working more than most grown adults do to pay for it, or to single-handedly raise your brother. You did NOT deserve the hand you were dealt. You are the strongest and more resilient woman that I have ever met, and I can't express to you how much it means to me that you're mine. How grateful I am that you even gave me a chance at all after everything I said to you. You are the most incredible woman and significant other. I'm so grateful you're here and with me."</p><p>Molly sniffles and lies her head on his chest. "Thanks", she whispers.</p><p>"Always."</p><p>"I love you. I love you so much."</p><p>"I love you too."</p><p>She sighs and wipes her face with her pajama sleeve. "I need to go to work tomorrow...I'll do the autopsy. I'm a professional, alright? I can handle it."</p><p>"Molly..."</p><p>"Sherlock."</p><p>Sherlock looks at her and sighs. "Are you sure?"</p><p>"Positive...I have to. Plus, Carly will be there and...I don't know, in some way it might make it better. I have to have that talk with her too."</p><p>"True."</p><p>"Then it's settled. I'll be alright, don't worry."</p><p>"Mhh, I always worry", he smiles slightly and kisses her temple.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>The next day Matt sits on the sofa, scrolling through the TV channels in the sitting room. He sighs and rubs his face, getting restless with the repetitiveness of the week. Mira going to work, him milling around the house. It's making him stir-crazy! Plus, the flashbacks and nightmares and lack of sleep wasn't helping him any. Getting his coat on, he decides to go for a walk into town to clear his head.</p><p>As he walks down the long stretch of sidewalk, he wonders where he would be in his life if he had never enlisted. If he had only stayed and gone to Uni with Mira and if they had begun their life together early. He wouldn't have these deafening nightmares, nor the flashbacks. He wouldn't feel restless all the time or get irritated at the slightest things. He would be a better person, or at least a calmer, more domesticated one. What if he and Molly had known about their little sister sooner? He still can't believe the news that she shared with him last night. Would they have known years ago if he hadn't left after high school?</p><p>Looking at the families, the children, the students, and the elderly that walk past, he wishes in a way that he could be in their shoes. Wishes that he ever could have been in their shoes. It's no secret that his childhood was rough, but going from that into the Army...well, that probably was a shit idea, regardless of how proud his father would have been. And what had it gotten him? Yeah, he has the honor of serving his country, but what else? He nearly lost the love of his life, which luckily never came to pass. He's twenty-three and riddled with how the war haunts him every night, he has no college degree for when he finally gets relieved and comes home for real, job hunting will be difficult due to having no experience in anything, and he is terrified of how he could be a stable choice to start a family with whenever he and Mira decide to talk about that.</p><p>Matthew runs his hand through his hair and takes a deep breath, worry and anxiety sweeping over him and the sounds and sights of war once again swirling in his head. He can't afford to go into a panic attack. Not right now, not in public. He ducks into the nearest building and swallows when he realizes that it's a pub. "God, I could really, really use a drink", he thinks to himself. He knows he shouldn't, but maybe just one will take the edge off. Plus, it's not like he drinks every day.</p><p>Moving up to the counter he orders a beer and pays. As he drinks, he observes his surroundings quietly. Thank God it was pretty quiet, being the middle of the day and all. He tries his hardest to make the memories go away, the visions of his friends and comrades being blown to smithereens vivid and painful each time. When he finally clears his head, he realizes that he's breathing a bit hard and three beers deep. Looking up at the clock, he sees that it has been almost two hours. "What? How is that possible??" He looks at the bartender who asks if he is okay because he seems a bit dazed. Matt nods and groggily steps off the barstool, leaving. What he really wanted to do was keep drinking the memories away, but the voice in the back of his mind wouldn't let him, not now.</p><p>Matt makes his way to Mira's office which is a few blocks away and leans on the front desk, asking for her. When he sees her, he grins. "Mira, babe!"</p><p>Mira furrows her brow and pulls him aside. "Matty...what are you doing here...oh my God have you been drinking??"</p><p>"I got bored and anxious at the house, so I went for a walk and had a few beers, it's fine."</p><p>"No, it's not fine and you know why. Tell me what's wrong..."</p><p>"It is fine", he rolls his eyes. "You're being dramatic."</p><p>She cups his face and looks at him. "Matty. I've known you a long time, and I know when something is up. Come on..." She pulls him to her office and closes the door, sitting him down.</p><p>He rubs his face and groans.</p><p>"Tell me what's wrong. I love you."</p><p>Matty groans louder. "Nothing, nothing's wrong, I'm fine, I'm always fine!"</p><p>Mira gently leans down in front of him and takes his hands. "I love you; I want to help you. I've never seen you like this. You never snap, you're never this jittery. I'm here, okay?"</p><p>Rubbing his face again, he becomes more agitated. "It's nothing! Nothing different than usual! You leave me all alone at the house and it's quiet and boring and my thoughts hate me and the memories flood back and everything hurts, and they won't go away! Plus, I'm still shocked that my Dad had another kid that I could have been raised around; a sister I could have known for years! So yes, I tried drowning everything out alright??? I should be allowed to push shit away for a while and if a few beers help, then goddamn it I'm going to have some!"</p><p>She flinches a bit then strokes his arm quietly. Matt looks up at her, tears welling up in his eyes and she cups her face, putting her forehead on his as he breaks down. "I'm here, Matty."</p><p>He tries to speak through his sobs and gently pulls her close, clinging to her. "Oh God I'm so sorry...I don't..I don't know what came over me..." He continues to sob into her shoulder. "I didn't know where else to go, please help me...I love you, please...I don't want to be like this." Tears rush down his face and sobs wrack his body. Mira tears up as well and her lip trembles.</p><p>"I'm right here Matty...I've got you." She sniffles and strokes his cheek. "What should we do...should we go to the hospital? Is that what you need?"</p><p>He cries and cups her cheek. "I don't know...I just want the memories to stop. I-I just want the panic attacks and the nightmares to stop. It hurts too much...please. I'm so tired...I'm so tired..."</p><p>Mira cradles him close, rocking him softly for a moment and stroking his hair. "We're going to get you some help, okay? I promise. Cmon, we can go to Bart's. I'll tell my boss it's a family emergency."</p><p>Matty sits there quiet and dazed, nodding catatonically. Miranda informs her boss and grabs her stuff, helping Matty to her car and heading to the hospital.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>The next day Molly arrives at Bart's for work and situates her things in her office. She prints out the schedule for the day and sighs heavily, seeing Tom's name and information on the spreadsheet. "At least he's after lunch", she thinks to herself. She can only imagine the damage to his brain that a professional sniper's bullet could have caused. Though it will be one of the hardest autopsies for her, it will also be one of her most informative, seeing as (shockingly) she has never had the victim of a sniper on her slab. She is interested to see the impact a high caliber bullet makes on the skull and brain.</p><p>"Snap out of it, Molly! This was your damn fiancé. Ex-fiancé. Possibly only fiancé I'll ever have", she mutters as she unlocks all of the cabinets and drawers, and prepares the tables and slabs with sterile scalpels and other equipment.</p><p>As she is preparing the morgue, Carly walks in with her pale pink coat and black backpack. "Good Morning Doct-, I mean, Molly", she smiles sweetly.</p><p>Molly turns around quickly and looks at her as if she's looking at a ghost- eyes wide and full of wonder, an almost sad look within them. "G-Good morning..."</p><p>Carly bites her lip and puts her stuff in Molly's office, hanging up her coat next to hers. She's wearing a pretty striped jumper and black work pants. Coming out of Molly's office, she quickly ties her platinum blonde hair into a nice ponytail.</p><p>"Wow...you make that look so easy. If I didn't do mine in the mirror on mornings, I'd have flyaways everywhere."</p><p>She giggles softly. "Yeah, well I had a lot of practice, I'm usually putting it up on the bus when I have a football game."</p><p>"You play football?"</p><p>"Yeah. I'm okay I guess." She chuckles and helps Molly prepare the remaining half of the morgue. Molly can't help but stare.</p><p>"She has my nose, well...Dad's nose. Dad's chin. We definitely both got jipped on height, apparently... Her freckles are adorable.", she thinks.</p><p>"Are...you okay?"</p><p>"Hm? Oh, yeah. Sorry..."</p><p>"It's okay, you're just looking at me kinda weird."</p><p>"Apologies. I didn't mean to; I was just thinking."</p><p>"Okay."</p><p>There is a pause as they work to set up then Molly stops and turns to her. "I just..."</p><p>"Yes?", she looks at her hopefully.</p><p>Molly bites her lip and hugs her gently but tightly. Carly is a bit shocked but hugs her back the same, closing her eyes. "You know...", she murmurs.</p><p>Molly nods and sniffles. "I know...God, yes, I know. I found out yesterday."</p><p>Carly tears up and looks at her. "I couldn't believe I had a sister, and a brother...my Mum told me a couple days ago."</p><p>A couple tears fall down Molly's face and she gently cups Carly's face. "God...let me look at you...oh, you are so beautiful and so smart. Dad would be so proud of you." Her voice shakes and she strokes away her tears that fall down Carly's cheeks.</p><p>Carly hugs her tightly. "I'm glad the truth came out...I always wanted siblings. You're like the coolest sister I ever could have had. I'm shocked that someone else is as intrigued by death as I am...I guess it runs in the family?"</p><p>Molly chuckles softly. "Soldiers and Pathologists. What a crazy family we have. What about your Mum?"</p><p>"She is actually a dentist", she laughs softly. "Not as morbid."</p><p>Molly giggles. "Well, you have great teeth, you're so lucky you don't have braces. Ugh, they're torture."</p><p>Carly grins. "Yeah, I'm glad I never needed them. Hey...my Mum would like to see you again. Or meet you formally I guess. If you and Matthew want to come over sometime this week...? She does care about you; she just had no legal power to take care of you back then because Dad died before they got married."</p><p>"I heard..."</p><p>"Wait...so how did you find out?"</p><p>Molly chuckles. "My boyfriend's irritating big brother who works for the government. No idea where he got the info and I'm not exactly interested. I have learned not to question him too deeply. He's kinda intimidating."</p><p>"Wow he works for the government? That's cool. How's your boyfriend? I don't have one yet...I'm kinda really shy at school."</p><p>She grins and gently squeezes her shoulder. "So was I, and that's okay. Oh um, my boyfriend's name is Sherlock."</p><p>Carly's jaw drops a bit.</p><p>"Yes, Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock. It took him years and years to face that he had feelings for me. Truthfully, I think it's still an uphill battle", she chuckles. "But he's worth it. I'm the only one who sees his sweet side, so it's nice."</p><p>"Wowww...Sherlock Holmes is your boyfriend. Holy crap."</p><p>Molly snorts. "You can meet him sometime! But right now we need to get ready for autopsies."</p><p>"Right." Carly smiles happily. "I'm glad we met, Molly. I'm glad you're my sister."</p><p>"Me too Carly. You're an amazing girl."</p><p>Suddenly Molly's cell phone rings in her pocket and she sighs. "Probably Sherlock. He can be quite clingy when he's bored." Molly and Carly laugh softly and she answers.</p><p>"Hello....Mira? Okay, okay, slow down a second. Yeah...yeah...oh no...yeah just bring him in and tell them how he was acting and that he is active military. I'll be up in a little while between autopsies. Okay, yeah just stay with him. Mmhm...okay, bye."</p><p>Carly furrows her brow and looks at Molly. Molly swallows and looks at her phone.</p><p>"What was that? If...if you don't mind me asking."</p><p>"Matty is being admitted upstairs. Our brother. Apparently, he had a bit of a breakdown and a bad panic attack today. He's has some PTSD and I'm afraid that it is really affecting him. That's what I didn't want to happen, but I suppose it's unavoidable. If he's feeling himself later on today though, you can meet him if you'd like."</p><p>She nods a bit and looks concerned. "Will he be okay?"</p><p>"I hope so...he's just having a tough time. I bet with a lot of people around him that he cares about, we can get him through it though. Plus, I'm sure he'd like to meet you."</p><p>Carly bites her lip. "Okay...see how he is later, and maybe I'll go up and wish him well."</p><p> </p><p>Molly nods and smiles as the first body is rolled into the morgue. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. Desperation and Willpower</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Molly and Carly discuss Matty; Molly does a heartbreaking autopsy; Matty is in the hospital after his PTSD drinking episode and gets help from the people he loves, and a friend; John pushes Sherlock to act with Molly; Molly attends a funeral and thinks of how lucky she and Sherlock are to be alive.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Molly and Carly spent their lunch hour together talking, catching up and making plans to have Molly and Matthew over for dinner at her house when Matty is better. Molly tells Carly a bit about her and Matty's childhood and how their mom became a terribly abusive drunk and drug addict. She explains how she was afraid of Matty going into the Army, not only for PTSD, but because she knows that soldiers drink a lot when they can. Now she's afraid he could be taken by it the way their mom was, and she would do anything to stop that from happening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sure you and his girlfriend will get him the best help that you can, right? I mean I know both of you love him a lot, so you will make sure he's okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly smiles sadly and fiddles with her hands. "Yeah, I hope he will be okay. I know he wants to be nothing like our mom. I know he would do anything to get better, to be better. I'm just so worried about him."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carly gently squeezes her hand and looks at her. "He'll be okay. I know he will. He has a lot of people around who will make sure of it Molly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Molly hugs her and nods slowly. "Thanks Carly. He'll have you too now. I'm sure he'll love meeting you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hope so...I just hope it's not too much for him to handle all at once."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll make sure he's okay with it first, don't worry."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright", she smiles. "We should probably get going back to the morgue...you said you had that important autopsy, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly’s face falls again. "Yeah...important and..difficult."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Difficult?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He was my fiancé...well, ex-fiancé. He wasn't who I thought he was. He was a good guy, but he was involved with bad people. Got him killed..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, Molly...my God."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. It's okay...I'm a professional so I can handle it. It's just a hard art of the job sometimes. People will come across the slab that you know or recognize, and you still have to do your job. Just a hard part of it that you have to learn."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carly nods slowly. "I suppose so."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly slowly takes down the sheet from Tom's body. His skull is shattered and the front of his head in the forehead area looks like a sinkhole. Molly cringes a bit and tears well up in her eyes. Taking a slow, deep breath she closes her eyes for a moment and tries to swallow her sob. She feels nauseous but she tries to brush it away. This isn't about her; this is about his autopsy. About him, about her job. Not about her own feelings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snaps her gloves on and Carly does as well, preparing to hand her all of the tools she will need to successfully do her examination and finish the autopsy to completion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After an hour and a half, Tom's autopsy is finished, the results and the extent of the damage to his skull and brain shocking to her. It's one of the worst cases of a shattered skull she has ever seen. The bullet smashed it to bits, not to mention the fact that it single-handedly turned nearly half of his brain to slop on impact. That was one powerful bullet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carly throws her gloves away and hugs Molly's arm comfortingly, realizing how difficult it was for her. She was silent for almost the entire autopsy, when she usually rattles off her thoughts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly smiles sadly then cleans up the body, snapping off her own gloves and discarding them. She pulls the sheet back over his body and wheels him over to the refrigerators for the other morgue assistants to place him inside until mortuary pick-up. She makes a mental note to call Lestrade later and ask him when the services will be. She wants to contribute, since, well, she was his fiancée at one point, and he has no other family around that cares about him at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mira holds Matty's hand as he rests in his hospital bed. The nurse were kind enough to give him a bit of sedative so he could have a restful sleep. It was clear that even though he hadn't been obvious about it, he hadn't slept well in over a week. She looks at him sadly and kisses his cheek. "I love you, Matty. I'm so sorry this is happening to you. You deserve so much better and I'm sorry you're hurting...I should have noticed..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple hours later, he begins to wake up slowly and drowsily, his eyelids still heavy. He blinks a few times to clear up his vision and smiles when he sees Mira still seated where she was when he had been administered the sedative. "Mmh...hi."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks up quickly and smiles sadly, tearing up. "Hi, you." She cups his face and kisses him softly. "How are you feeling?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A lot better than I was before. I actually slept. Clearly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mira nods and intertwines their fingers lovingly. "I'm so sorry I didn't notice before. I should have noticed...I should have gotten you help sooner..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shh...I didn't want you to know. I didn't want to be a burden on you. Plus, it's my problem...y'know? I chose to join the Army. It's my fault that I'm like this now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No. It's not Matty. PTSD just happens, it's not like you wanted it or purposely have it. You went through horrific things during the war, and you saw things that were so terrible. You...you watched your friends die in front of you. Nobody can blame you if that affects you. It would affect anyone with a heart. And we both know you have one of the biggest hearts in the world." She places her hand over his heart and lies her head on his chest. Matty tears up and strokes her beautiful red hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love you so much. I didn't want to disappoint you, or...I don't know...ruin what we have. Because ever since I've come back, I've been so focused on you and on us, and that's what I wanted. That's what I still want. And instead I ruined it with these stupid flashbacks and all I want is to get them out of my head and be normal again. For us. You deserve a boyfriend who isn't riddled with this shit. You deserve a boyfriend with no limits. You deserve the world Miranda Hayes. Right now...I'm not that boyfriend, and it kills me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Matthew Hooper you are the best boyfriend. However you are, you're still you. That's all I need. You. I've loved you since we were six. I've been through a lot of bad crap with you and it has never scared me away before and it won't now. It's just another hurdle and I'm not running away. I will never run away. I love you too much, and I know that you're worth coming out on the other side with. I love YOU. No matter what. I'm here, okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tears up and she raises her head to look at him. Matty cups her face and put his forehead against hers, a few tears falling down both of their faces. He nods weakly and strokes her cheeks. "I...I'll need help with this...p-professionally. I think."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then that's what you'll get. I just want you to feel better. I think it's a good idea, and I'm glad you realize that you need it. However...I think there's something else that needs to be discussed too..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Matty looks down. "I know..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The drinking Matty...you know that alcoholism runs in your family and you also know that stress is a huge trigger. You can't drink. You know you can't drink, because you never stop at one or two. Even with the best intentions, it's not smart for you to ever pick up a drink, even in leisure when you're feeling your best. We both know this about you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I-I know...I don't...I'm not sure why I did. It was just the images in my head, and I couldn't escape them and I just...needed something. I don't know. I know it was stupid."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well hopefully a therapist can help you with that. Molly and I will do some research and see if we can find one that specializes in PTSD or work with retired or active military. I'll also be here if you need a distraction. But Matty...you know the hospital has to report this to your higher ups..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know..", he mutters. "But honestly I don't really mind. The worst they can do is discharge me. At this point...I think that's what I'd want. Of course, I'd probably feel like a failure since I only lasted nearly six years...but I just want to be with you. I want to move forward with my life, I want to build a life with you Mira. I know me being so far away for too long isn't easy for you either and as I said before I would die if I lost you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Matthew Hooper you are not a failure, you are an honorable soldier. You will never lose me, not ever. I am here for the long haul, I promise you with all my heart. I am yours, alright? I want a life with you as well."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods and hugs her tightly, and she hugs him ack, cuddling into his side as he holds her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly texts Sherlock to tell him the news about Matty. He tells her that he is finishing up a case, but that he and John can swing by the hospital in a little while. He thinks maybe John can talk to him, since going through the same thing after getting shot. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Agreeing, Molly cleans up the morgue with the help of Carly and asks her if she wants to come with her upstairs to visit Matthew. She nods hesitantly and follows her upstairs once they lock up. They go to his room and Carly elects to wait outside until she's sure Matty wants to meet her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly squeezes her hand and nods, then slowly enters his hospital. She smiles, seeing him cuddling with Mira, loving how they are o good together and that he had found her at a time when he needed a friend the most. She is always a constant for him, loving him and getting him through the worst of times. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi you two", Molly whispers, hoping she isn't disturbing them too much. Mira and Matty open their eyes and smile a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey Molls", Matty says softly. "You didn't have to be bothered to come."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course I was going to come see you, you're my baby brother."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blushes slightly and Mira giggles softly. "Thanks for stopping by. Matty and I were discussing y’know...what he's going to need going forward."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course. Matty if it's okay, Sherlock and John are going to stop by. I know you don't like a lot of people knowing when you are in need, but John has been through it and I think it would be really helpful for him to speak with you about PTSD and how to handle it because he has been through it himself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallows and looks at her. "I know you're trying to help Molls...I just..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know...you don't feel like talking about it. But you have to talk about it. You have to. That's the only way you're going to get better." Molly goes over and sits on the edge of the bed, patting his hand softly. "I love you. I want the best for you, and I want you to get better. I'm sure Mira told you that too, hm?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods and looks down sadly. "Yes...some days it seems impossible. I just want to be okay and I want to move on with my life. I want a life with Mira without these mental battles."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then you have to be willing to work for it Matty." Molly hugs him tightly and he hugs her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know, I am..er..I want to be. I'll put in the work; I'll talk with a therapist. I just need you to guide me to the right person. Is..that something you can help me with sis?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know I'll help you. I'll work with Mira and we will all figure it out together okay? Plus, Sherlock's friend John can probably give you some good advice. He got through it, he got married, had a beautiful little girl. You can get through it too. I promise you can."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mira strokes his hair. "Yeah, and Matty you're so strong and so willful. You've got this."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods and kisses her temple. "Thank you, love. I'm glad I have you both in my corner. I'm lucky."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly smiles at them and realizes that she's lucky too. They have both been through horrific experiences and come out of them stronger, and with the people they love. That's a win in her book, regardless of the hurdles life throws at them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock and John hop into the cab and Sherlock tells the cabbie to go to Bart's. John furrows his brow and looks over then smirks. "Ah, visiting your girlfriend then?", he asks teasingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Not just that. Her brother was hospitalized, some sort of PTSD episode Molly told me. Alcoholism also runs in their family and earlier he turned to that to drown out the visions of war. I thought that maybe since you have been through quite a similar experience that you could have a talk with him...?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John folds his hands in his lap and takes a breath. "Yes, well...I can certainly try. Although I was a bit of an adrenaline junkie, not much of a drinker. That was Harry's forte. But erm..I suppose I can talk to him about therapy. Keeping a blog or a journal or something to ground him the way Ella taught me. I know of a few good programs he can join."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Great...he's her brother, you know? She practically raised him which makes him more important to her. I may not be close with my own siblings, as far as actual closeness goes, but Molly is very protective of him, very motherly to him. It's second nature to her. I figure helping Matthew, gets me in better graces with Molly too, so it's a win-win."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John snorts. "Better graces? What, are you in the doghouse already? What've you done this time?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no nothing like that. Molly and I are...well..we're...good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just good?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Great. I love her, she loves me. She hasn't tried to change me, and I adore the way she is too, so it works. Better than I ever would have figured before. It's affirming."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you...."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock quirks an eyebrow and glances over then away. "Have I...?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh God, you haven't have you?? What was Mycroft right??"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What on Earth are you talking about, John?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It /does/ "alarm" you, doesn't it? You're still...y'know" John snickers slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock sighs and swallows. "Possibly."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sherlock...she may not want to change you, but you have to be willing to give a bit to her too! That's what a relationship is. Plus, it's just something couples do together."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grumbles a bit. "Yes, you'd know the first thing about that wouldn't you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well...yes. I do have a daughter, don't I? Plus, it's bloody fantastic if it's with the right woman." John nudges him and Sherlock turns a shade of red John has never seen, to which he bursts out laughing. "C'mon mate, it's Molly. You love her. After every bloody thing you two have been through I doubt she'd judge you. It's er....trial and error I suppose."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's change the subject, now, please."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John chuckles and shrugs. "Fine, but Sherlock, she /is/ a woman. Nobody can wait forever, especially a woman who's...used to it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What the hell is that supposed to mean??" Sherlock growls a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It means she has had other boyfriends and other experiences and I'm sure what she wants is to have that with the man she's actually in love with. So you better not fuck up the only good thing you have ever had because you're scared."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I am not scared!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, really?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Then prove it to her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock scoffs and crosses his arms like a child, peering out of the window, a pout on his lips. "Maybe I will...later. Maybe."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John smirks and turns away so Sherlock doesn't see. "Yeah, yeah. I'll celebrate when I hear it from Molly or Mrs. H."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mrs. H??"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"She's the group gossip, c'mon we all know that. Plus, she and Molly are fairly close. She's like a mother figure to her. No doubt Molly would blab about it. Just another reason to hurry it up and make it good for her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ugh...I'm done talking about this!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John shrugs. "That's fine with me, I don't need /any/ graphic detail, thanks. Just a confirmation that you've committed. That's part of it, so just...maybe let her...I don’t know...guide you?" John cringes a bit at his choice of words. "You know what I mean, don’t keep her waiting around too long. She loves you, and let's be honest, neither of you are getting any younger."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why would age matter?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're serious?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock looks confused. "Yes....no...?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sherlock, I know you have seen Molly with Rosie tons of times. You have to have noticed that she'd make an incredible mother. At least if you'd get your head out of your arse once in a while. It's no secret she's been in love with you for ages. No doubt she'd want your child. She'll be turning thirty-four soon. You don't have too much of a window left. But you two should be communicating about these things, not me. You need to have these talks with her. You're together finally. Stop skirting around everything that makes you the least little bit unsure. You love each other, so it will all work out. Trust me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock sighs and shrugs. "I suppose I'll have to...I just don't want to disappoint her."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're not bad with kids yourself, Sherlock. You've watched Rosie a couple times. She loves you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not about what I want or don't want...it's about my work, and the risks that come with it. How could I knowingly bring my own child into a life filled with the risk of getting killed because of who their father is? I don't think I could do that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think that's something you would have to discuss with Molly. But, if it's any consolation, I believe you'd both protect them."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mhh...", Sherlock says absently, watching the buildings pass by. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Back in Matty's hospital room, Molly had told him that Carly was there that day after helping her out in the morgue and wanted to meet him. He had relented and met his little sister for the first time. It was a weird feeling for him, since he had always been the youngest, and coming to realize that he was now the middle child felt odd. However, they immediately connected, and he realized for the first time what it felt like to be protective of a younger sibling. He could see things through Molly's eyes and how much she had cared for him over the years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Carly was very sweet to him and promised to help him through his troubles as well. Matty had promised to help her with her history homework since it used to be his best subject. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock and John had come and joined them all in Matthew's hospital room, and Molly, Sherlock, Carly, and Mira had given him and John some privacy to talk about what he was going through. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A couple days later, Matthew was thriving in specialized therapy for military members, and beginning to sleep better. Mira could tell he was making progress and Molly and Carly called him periodically to make sure he was alright as well. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~~~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly sighs as she looks in the mirror with her black dress, tying her hair into a side braid and putting on some light makeup. Sherlock walks up behind her and wraps his arms around her middle, laying his chin on her shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sure. It's going to be a very small group, and I know you didn't like him. I'm sure it'll be a pretty quick funeral and burial." Molly turns and looks at him. "I hope you understand why I had to give him a funeral."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sherlock nods slowly. "I do...and I respect you for it. You have a big heart Molly. One of your best qualities. Love and forgiveness. You never cease to amaze me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Molly smiles sadly and reaches up on her tiptoes to peck his lips. "Thank You. I'll be home in a couple hours. If you don't get a case, maybe we could go for lunch when I get back?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you soon." Sherlock kisses her soundly and cradles her face gently before letting go. "I'll be here if you need me, alright. I'm only a text away."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know, thanks Sherlock." Molly grabs her purse and leaves, sighing sadly. As much as her time with Tom wasn't ideal, she never would have imagined attending the funeral of the fairly decent thirty-four year old man. Molly feels bad for him, especially since Greg had told her everything Tom had said about wanting to build a new and genuine life for himself. Now he will never get that opportunity. Molly can only be thankful that she and Sherlock will, especially after everything they have gone through that could have ended their own lives. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Past Memories and Future Endeavors</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sherlock discusses the future with Molly; Matthew discusses the future with Mira; Molly and Matthew meet up with a face from their past and mourn their father in the most beautiful way possible.</p><p>~Admin Note: Guys, I totally cried writing the last part. I never cry. Prepare your tissues!~</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A few days after Tom's funeral, Molly comes home from work and is greeted by Sherlock, who smiles and wraps her up in one of the biggest hugs she has ever received and nuzzles his face into her neck. </p><p>"Molly...my Molly. How was your day?"</p><p>Molly giggles and cuddles him back. "It was fine, how about yours?"</p><p>"It was alright..."</p><p>Molly pulls back and looks at him lovingly. "Are you sure, you seem a bit hesitant, what's wrong?"</p><p>"Nothing's wrong...not really. I just...John had a bit of a talk with me the other day and it has got me thinking about our future, that is if you want a future with me..."</p><p>She bushes a bit and nods slowly. "Well, of course I want a future with you Sherlock. But tell me, what's bothering you?"</p><p>Sherlock leads her to the sofa and sits down with her, nervously fiddling with his sleeves. </p><p>"Sherlock, come on, what is it? You know you can talk to me about anything."</p><p>"Well...yes...well..."</p><p>Molly raises an eyebrow and pecks his cheek. "So..go on then. I promise I won't judge you; when have I ever?"</p><p>"I know you won't. I am just worried about how this will sound and how you will see me after I talk to you about this. I'm a grown man for God's sake, this is ridiculous."</p><p>"Alright, well...get on with it then. It's alright."</p><p>Sherlock takes a deep breath. "I know what you want for your life Molly...I have always known, since the day we met. I deduced all these little things about you, and I knew what you wanted from day one. Of course back then I was a super arrogant asshole who didn’t care about anyone except himself, but that's beside the point now."</p><p>"What...exactly did you deduce? What exactly do you think that I want for my life Sherlock?"</p><p>"Domestication. Normalcy. A...a family."</p><p>Molly blushes deeply and takes his hand. "Sherlock, if that's not in the cards for me...for us, that's okay. I have you."</p><p>"No. That's just the point. That is not okay, because I love you and I should be able to give you everything you have ever wanted in life. That includes...a family. Children of your- our own."</p><p>Molly turns deep red. "Is that what /you/ want though? That decision should be mutual, it's not just me that it would affect. It would affect you too. You know that."</p><p>"Yes...I do. The only thing I am worried about is the fact that I deal with numerous criminals, all of which could decide they want to kill me at any point, or even worse, if they really wanted to get to me and we had children, they would go after you or them and I can't have that happening. Not again. I can't lose you, Molly. Also...I...I don't want us to have a child like Eurus. That terrifies me as well."</p><p>Well, Sherlock let's take things steps at a time hm? I mean, we've just started dating and living together. It will hopefully just come naturally. If we decide in the future, that's great."</p><p>"But Molly, you're nearly thirty-four. I'm thirty-six. If we want children now is the best time to have them. We are not getting younger unfortunately."</p><p>"Well yes, obviously." Molly blushes.</p><p>"I know what you're thinking and..and...we will. Soon. I want to. Believe me, Molly. You do make me feel...things. But my head isn't quite caught up with my heart. I promise you soon though."</p><p>"Sherlock, I'm not desperate. But yeah, I suppose it would be nice. You know I will wait for you though; I have told you that many times."</p><p>He nods and pulls her close into his lap, and Molly cuddles close. "I love you, Molly Hooper".</p><p>"I love you, Sherlock Holmes."</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Weeks later, Matthew has been going to therapy and it has been helping him greatly. John had given him his cell number in case he ever needs some advice as well. Due to his outburst and his recent alcohol issues, the Army relieved him of duty on honorable discharge, much like his father, less the getting shot part.  He is a bit saddened by it, but also extremely relieved. </p><p>Matty walks out of therapy and sees Mira's car, grinning softly and hopping into the passenger side. "Hey babe", he leans over and pecks her lips softly. "How was work today?"</p><p>"It was pretty hectic, but I got through it. How was your day?"</p><p>"Well, I slept more than usual last night, I had a full breakfast thanks to you leaving me some leftovers, I had a nice lunch at Angelo's...without beer. I did some job hunting, with not too much luck, but I'll keep looking. Then a nice walk to therapy where I had a great session and waited for you to pick me up."</p><p>Mira smiles and drives, holding his hand in her free one. "I feel selfish being thrilled to have you all to myself again, but I know it must be kind of sad for you to leave your Army friends and your duty."</p><p>"It's not selfish. We lost a lot of years together. Years that you deserved for me to be there for you, Mira. I'm happy to finally be home with you without the threat of being separated from you again. I love you so much. Once I get a job, I will try to save so one day we can get our own house."</p><p>"I love you too, love. Ooh our own house huh?"</p><p>He blushes a bit. "If you'd like one, some day." He brushes his thumb over her hand gently, then kisses it. "I know I want a life with you. It's always been you, Miranda. I know I have some issues, and I am working to fix them mostly for you. For us."</p><p>"You're working hard, and I see that. I'm very proud of you Matty. Of course I want to be with you no matter what, I've stayed through everything and I have no plans to leave now."</p><p>"Good."</p><p>Mira pulls up to the flat and parks her car. She turns to him and kisses him deeply. Matty raises an eyebrow then melts into her, kissing back.</p><p>"Mmm...lovey."</p><p>She grins and cups his cheek. "I'm so happy you're home with me for good. I'll help you look for a job too, I know how hard it can be."</p><p>He nods and nuzzles her nose. "Right then." He gets out of the car with her and walks over, scooping her off her feet. Mira squeals happily and giggles. </p><p>"Matty!"</p><p>"Come on, beautiful", he beams and kisses her cheek, carrying her inside.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>
  
</p><p>A few days later, the time for Molly and Matthew to meet Carly's mother has come. Molly freshens up in the hospital bathroom and had told Matty to meet her there. Today was the last day of Carly shadowing her in the morgue and lab, and Molly is sad to see her younger helper go. However, she is thrilled that she has gained a sibling, and that she finally gets to have some sort of family.</p><p>Molly smiles as Carly comes out of the stall as she is fixing her lipstick. "Matty will be here soon, I can't wait to meet your mother, especially if she's anything like you, Carly."</p><p>Carly grins and washes her hands then hugs Molly's arm. "She's going to love you Molly. Matty too. Honestly, I think she always has, even when we were all apart. She already adores you both and she is sooo excited for today."</p><p>Molly beams. "'I'm excited too. Let's go!"</p><p>They exit the bathroom and Matty is there waiting for them. He smiles and hugs them both. "Alright, today is the day, huh?"</p><p>"Today is the day." Molly chuckles and walks with them to her car. Within forty minutes, they pull up to Carly's house. It's a very simple cottage home with a nice yard, away from any main London traffic. Carly smiles softly and hops out of the car with her bag. </p><p>"Welcome to your second home, you two", she grins. </p><p>Molly gets out with Matty and smiles at him softly, rubbing his shoulder as they stroll up the walkway. "Is therapy going okay?"</p><p>He nods. "Yeah, it's going well. I finally feel freer and able to move on with Mira. Of course the PTSD won't ever be gone completely, but it's nice to have ways to handle it."</p><p>"Good. I'm glad, you really deserve it Matty. I mean it. I know I tried to give you a decent childhood and adolescence, but I know it wasn't always great. I know it was difficult at times, and for that I'm sorry. I'm just so ecstatic that you can move on with your life now and be genuinely happy. I love you."</p><p>Matty hugs her for a moment. "I love you too. And I know you did your absolute best for me, Molly. You have no idea how much I appreciate that. If I never told you back then, I'm telling you now. You are the most incredible big sister in the entire world. Not many eighteen-year-olds would take their kid brother and raise him...especially when she had her own troubles and traumas. You're amazing, Moll. You always have been; you've always done your best, so thank you. I am happy." He tears up slightly when she does, clinging to him softly. </p><p>Molly sniffles and rubs his back. "You're welcome. You were worth it, Matty. You always were."</p><p>He blushes softly and smiles, wiping his eyes. "Ugh, you're getting me emotional already and we haven't even met Meredith yet."</p><p>"Me too", she giggles softly. "C'mon...we can do this together, hm?"</p><p>"Right."</p><p>They walks into the house with Carly, who sets her bag down. "Mom! We're home!"</p><p>Meredith comes out from the kitchen and grins brightly. Molly and Matty look at each other briefly, noting that Carly is the spitting image of her mom. </p><p>"Oh wow...Molly...Matthew. It's been too too long. You're so grown up", she gasps softly. "Molly you're so beautiful, and Matty you're just as handsome as your father."</p><p>They blush and thank her. She hugs Molly first, then Matty. Carly smiles softly. </p><p>"Thank you for having us, Meredith. Carly has told me a lot about you. I admit I don't recall too much about you, unfortunately since the last time I saw you..."</p><p>Her face goes a bit sullen and she nods, gently taking Molly's hands in her own. "I know...I still miss him too. Every single day. I don't think there will be a day that I don't. I know your grief, sweetheart. And Matthew, your Dad adored you so so much too. He would talk about his little guy all the time. You're not so little anymore." Meredith chuckles lightly and leads them into the living room to sit. They all sit around and talk about the past, Carly listening to all of the stories, her face a little sad. </p><p>Molly scoots over and wraps an arm around her, Carly leaning into her a bit as Meredith and Matty speak about his time in the army. "I'm sorry if all this talk makes you sad. I wish that you knew him the way that we did." Carly tears up a little bit. "I know it's not fair that you didn't get to. But he gave us one last incredible gift before he died, and that was you Carly. You are an amazing gift to me and to Matty. You've showed us family that we haven't known for decades. Dad would be so proud of you and he would adore you so much. I know that he does, and I know for a fact that he's looking out for all of us. I know that where he is, he loves you so much and wishes you could have known him too." She sniffles and tears fall down Carly's face. Molly pulls her close into a hug and strokes her hair softly. "I've got you...I'm here."</p><p>Meredith shows Molly and Matthew old photos of Mark and herself when they were dating. In some of them he looks a lot weaker and sicker than he does in others, but he always has a smile on his face with her. Molly sniffles and wipes her eyes. "He really loved you..."</p><p>Meredith fiddles with her hands and nods. "Yes, he really did, and I loved him just as much. I know we hadn't dated very long at all but there was just something...magnetic about him. It may sound cliche, but it truly was love at first sight. I fell so deeply for him, and him for me. We shared so many beautiful moments and his loss completely broke my heart as well. The only thing that redeemed me was Carly. It was like he was giving me a sign that I'd be okay. Like he was giving me the most beautiful and amazing part of him." She cups Carly's face and kisses her forehead. "I was so lucky, and so grateful for her, because she's the best part of him."</p><p>Meredith looks at Carly and tears fall. "You are the best part of him. So kind, and loving, and intelligent. You have no idea how much I love you, and how happy I was when I found out I was pregnant. Not only did I want to be a mom, but to be a mom to Mark's baby girl...it was the best thing that ever happened to me after he died." Carly cries softly and cuddles her and Molly cries softly as well. Matty rubs Molly's back.</p><p>Matty sniffles a bit and points to her hand. "Your engagement ring?"</p><p>She nods and looks at it, more tears falling. "I know it's been....a long time. I just...I-...I can't bring myself to take it off", she chokes out. "He was the love of my life. I'll never take it off, and I'll never love any man the way I loved your Dad."</p><p>Molly dabs her eyes with a tissue and sniffles, moving over and hugging her and Carly. Matty scoots over and joins them. Meredith smiles sadly and looks from Molly to Matthew. "I love you both too. It doesn't matter that you're not my biological children, it really doesn't. You're both a part of him. Any child of Mark's is a gift and is a child of mine. I want you both to know that you are always always welcome here. I want to be a kind of mother that you never had. I want to be the woman you can lean on if you ever need a mother. I promise you that, and I want us to make up for lost time."</p><p>Molly nods and squeezes her hand, gently stroking the engagement ring. "Dad had great taste, huh?" Meredith chuckles softly and nods, Molly joining in. "I'm glad we found you both. It's a new chapter in all of our lives, and I'm glad that Matty and I can fit somewhere. I know we are adults with our own lives, but it's still nice to have...this. A sense of family before we both have our own one day. I also want to thank you...for making my Dad happy when he was sick. There were a lot of times at home when he would look so sad when he didn't think we could see him. But you brought a smile to his face and showed him a kind of love that he had been missing for so long, and I am very grateful to you for that. For making his final months matter and count and making him feel loved and happy. He really deserved you. I want you to know that. He did deserve you, I can tell how much you loved each other now. So thank you."</p><p>They have a good cry for a bit before taking a breather from photos and memories. Meredith makes a delicious roasted chicken dinner, and they all help out as if they are teens doing chores. Molly and Matthew have a few good laughs with Carly and Meredith and for the first time since Mark's death, they truly feel what family and home should have felt like when they were younger. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. 4 In A Family, 3 Proposals, 2 Surprises, 1st Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Multiple stories come to a perfectly happy conclusion, and everyone ends up exactly where they should be.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Six months go by and everything has resumed normally. For Molly, life has gotten so much better since regularly seeing Carly and Meredith. Matty was happy about their little family of four as well, and was very protective of Carly, as any big brother should be. They had gotten used to going over every Sunday for a nice family dinner. She brought Sherlock, and Matty bought Mira. It was lovely. Like the type of family she had always hoped and dreamed of having when she was younger. Of course, with the happiness also came the distinct sadness that her Dad was missing it. Both of his daughters and his son together with the woman he loved more than anything in the world. The woman he had once wished so badly to be the loving mother that they deserved, and the daughter he never knew, that he would have adored as much as he had adored Molly.</p><p>She wonders what he would think of Sherlock. A smile comes to her face, thinking of how protective he would have been when she and Sherlock were not in a very good place, but she's positive that he would have come around to liking him. Especially since Sherlock has since proven himself to her, as well as her newfound family. Plus, her Dad was a forgiving man, as long as you were genuine. Boy, Sherlock could not have more genuine when he told her that he loved her. Sure, she had to nearly die from being buried alive for it to come out of him but hey, he was always the most stubborn person in the world!</p><p>They had told Meredith and Carly the story and she couldn't help but burst out laughing from the shock and fear that was in their eyes. By the time she had finished the story, complete with her happy ending with Sherlock, they were much more relieved and calmer.</p><p>Molly smiles at their happiness for her, knowing that they care, that she has the family she always wanted, and it gives her a warm fuzzy feeling. She also enjoys being a big sister to Carly. With Matt it was different because not only was she his sister, but she was practically his parent as well. This time around she can be the "fun one". Well, once she made sure her homework was done, of course. But she must admit that going on shopping sprees with her was quite fun. Sometimes you need a teen's perspective on your wardrobe. Molly had even taken a chance and bought a couple outfits that were not her usual style. They hugged her figure and complemented what curves she did had. Carly was certainly right because Sherlock had definitely enjoyed them on her.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Meanwhile, back at John's house, he and Caroline had crossed the threshold into the next step in their relationship. She had started to sleep over more often, and she was amazing with little Rosie, who adored her right back. John had been doing a lot of thinking lately, especially about Mary. This was largely due to the fact that he was very happy with Caroline and was even considering asking her to move in with him. He knows that Mary would absolutely encourage him to, as she was the type of woman who would want both John and her daughter to be very happy, however he couldn't help the tiny speck of guilt within his heart. He smiles fondly at her memory and sighs, pushing his silvery hair back and looks into the mirror. God, he had aged himself, or rather parenting had aged him, but he adores Rosie.</p><p>When he had married Mary, they had told each other that they would see what happens. After Rosie, they never really talked about how many children they wanted, but John thinks that a sibling for Rosie would be nice. He had grown up an only child, and always hated it. Especially when his parents died, and he was the only one to handle the funerals and such. Plus, when he was younger, life got lonely at times without anyone to talk to about personal stuff that would truly understand. So, he supposes that yes, he would like to give her a sibling if the opportunity presented itself. Of course he would have to discuss this with Caroline, but they were in an incredible place and he was very much in love with her. He believes she is just as in love with him as well. They weren't getting any younger, and most likely they wouldn't have much time left to bear children. Not without a lot of risk at least.</p><p>A week later, John kisses Rosie's head and peppers her cheek before placing her in her toddler bed and tucking her in. She is proudly staying there and enjoying sleeping in her big girl bed. John closes her door and goes into his room, smiling at Caroline, who is already curled up in bed.</p><p>"Hey love", she smiles sweetly at him as he crawls into bed as well. She lies her head on his chest gently and strokes his chest.</p><p>"Hey", he returns, stroking his fingers through her hair. She looks up at him and studies his face.</p><p>"John? What's wrong?"</p><p>"What do you mean?"</p><p>"Well, you've been a little distant today. Seems like you've been thinking a lot...so...if everything alright?"</p><p>He sighs softly and her face looks concerned. "Yeah...I have been thinking, but it's nothing bad Care."</p><p>"Okay, then what is it then?"</p><p>"Our relationship is going very well, isn't it? I-I just mean that...you think it is too, right?"</p><p>Caroline smiles softly and gently places kisses upon his face. "Of course it is. John, you make me happy. You're the first person who has made me happy since my husband died. I hope I make you happy as well. I know Mary's death took a toll on you too. I think the fact that we both lost someone precious to us only made our bond stronger. I'm very happy with you."</p><p>John smiles and kisses her lips softly. "Good...I was wondering..."</p><p>"Yesss?"</p><p>John chuckles. "I was wondering if you'd like to move in? I know it might be hasty...", he searches her face for a reaction.</p><p>Caroline blushes and chews her lip for a moment, breaking out into a big smile. "I'd love to. I have been staying here quite a lot recently anyway, and this way I can be here more often to help take care of Rosie."</p><p>"Really?"</p><p>"Yes, really", she giggles and cuddles him. John grins and kisses her head.</p><p>"Well alright then. Good."</p><p>Caroline pecks his lips again. "Hey, you know that just because we're moving on, doesn't mean we can't still think about them sometimes, right? Mary will always be a part of you, and a part of Rosie. That doesn't go away just because you're in love again. Rosie will know her mother too. I promise. And Sean will always be a part of me too. We don't forget them because we move on with our lives. He told me that he would be happy for me if I did, that he wanted the best for me. For me to find joy again when he was gone. In a way I was lucky because I had time to prepare, we knew for a year he wasn't going to overcome the cancer. I know that you weren't so lucky, but if she's as amazing as you had told me, I know she would want that for you too."</p><p>John nods and strokes her cheek. "She did, and I know. It's nice that you understand me so well. It's one of the reasons I love you so much, Care. And Rosie is so lucky to have a woman like you as a role model in her life. Plus, I think Mary would love and approve of you for both me and Rosie."</p><p>Caroline smiles lovingly and puts her forehead on his. "I think Sean would like to see me with a man who makes me happy, and a little girl I can love like my own too."</p><p>"Did you ever want children? When you were married? I know you were only married a couple years and he was sick for most of it...but did you ever think of that?"</p><p>She looks a bit sad and nods. "Yeah, actually. We both wanted a family, but the cancer took over so quickly, it felt like time just slipped away."</p><p>John nods. "Mary and I never discussed it. Rosie had colic when she was a baby, so it was a stressful time for us and then...she died. But I like to think that maybe we would have had one more, just so Rosie could have a sibling. I grew up practically an only child becasue Harry was so much older, and it wasn't fun. I always wanted a sibling close in age."</p><p>"That's understandable. I keep telling my sister to visit more often because I miss her. I still can't believe she moved to Australia. The gall of that wild girl", she laughs a bit.</p><p>"Yeah, I still want to meet her!"</p><p>"You will. Patience, darling. I'll try to convince her to come back to London for a bit."</p><p>"Maybe she'd come for a wedding", he blurts out before he realizes, then bites his lip.</p><p>She raises an eyebrow. "A wedding? Who's wedding, hmm?"</p><p>"O-Ours...?"</p><p>"Ours? I'm sorry, I didn't know we were engaged Mr. Watson."</p><p>"Mhh...well we could be if you say yes, Ms. Hampton."</p><p>"Sa yes to what? There hasn't been a question", she teases and grins.</p><p>John sits up on his elbow and looks at her shyly but beaming. "Caroline Amelia Hampton, will you marry me?"</p><p>She beams and nods. "Yes. I'd love to marry you, of course John." She leans in and kisses him as they laugh happily, their night taking a turn for the better.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Matty is riding home after a long day at work. A few months ago he had taken a job as a clerk for a law office. It's more than minimum wage and a great starter job, close to home as well. It's especially great because he and Mira have the same hours, so they come home around the same time in the early evening, with weekends off. He chews his lip in the cab, fiddling with the small box in his hand. He had custom ordered a beautiful engagement ring for Mira a couple weeks ago and it finally came. He knows that she loves him, but his stomach is still doing flips with nervousness. He taps his fingers over the box until the cab comes to a halt.</p><p>After paying the cabbie, he takes a deep breath and goes into the flat. He sees her shoes by the front door and her coat hanging on the rack.</p><p>"Mira?"...."Mira!"</p><p>"Upstairs!"</p><p>He smiles and slips his shoes off, jogging up the stairs and into their room. Mira is sitting on the bed in her pjs. "Hey love...oh. Did you get home early today?"</p><p>Mira looks up at him shyly. "Yeah, I uhh...I did get home early. I got home around three actually..."</p><p>"Three? Why?"</p><p>"Well...um..."</p><p>Matty takes off his suit jacket and then sits next to her, wrapping his arm around her gently and kissing her temple. "Mira? What's wrong? You can tell me" he cups her cheek.</p><p>She bites her lip and pecks his lips, then holds his hand gently. "I-I have to tell you something..."</p><p>He furrows his brow and looks at her. "Okay, well tell me. I'm sure it can't be so bad, lovey."</p><p>"No, it's-it' not bad. I guess it's just...unexpected I guess."</p><p>"Miraaa. Tell me."</p><p>"Okay...okay. Um, I think it's better if I show you though." She gets up and goes into her purse, gently pulling out an envelope and handing it to him.</p><p>"What's this?"</p><p>"Just open it...please."</p><p>Matty looks at her and nods slowly, opening the envelope and pulling out a long-ish roll of film. Mira chews her lip and watches his face as his jaw drops and his eyes widen.</p><p>"I-is this...are you...are we..."</p><p>She nods and tears up. "Yeah...I'm pregnant Matty." Mira scoots over and cuddles his arm, pointing to the photos. "Baby A a-and Baby B. We're having twins..."</p><p>"Oh my god! Mira! Oh my god...oh my god. We're having babies??"</p><p>She blushes and smiles softly. "Yes, we're having twins, babe."</p><p>"Oh my God. Mira..." he tears up and scoops her into his arms, spinning her around. "Oh baby, I love you so much. I love them so much." Matty peppers her in kisses then kisses her deeply.</p><p>Mira returns the kiss eagerly then pulls away gently. "I wasn't sure if you'd think it was too soon...I know it wasn't expected. Especially with one baby, let alone two."</p><p>"I'm thrilled Miranda. I adore you, and I'll adore them, and we will do this together. I'm so excited, love. Actually...I was nervous myself on the way home."</p><p>"You were? Why?"</p><p>Matty smiles shyly and kisses her hands, then kneels and slips her shirt up, kissing her stomach gently and lovingly. Mira tears up and sniffles, running her hand through his hair.</p><p>He looks up at her lovingly and pulls the small velvet box out of his pocket. "I was nervous because of this. I didn't have any idea you were pregnant. But I am so happy, Mira. You make me happy. I want you for the rest of my life if you'll have me. Miranda Hayes, will you marry me?"</p><p>Mira breaks out into tears and nods, sinking down onto her knees and wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. Once they pull away, he grins and strokes her cheek. "Hey, what about your ring? I had it custom made for you. Don't you want it?"</p><p>She giggles shyly and wipes her face, nodding. "Oh, God yeah of course. But you're the real prize Matthew Hooper."</p><p>Matty blushes and kisses her forehead, opening up the velvet box to show a gorgeously dainty custom diamond ring. She gasps and stares for a moment.</p><p>
  
</p><p>"Oh, Matty it's so gorgeous! Oh my God...it must've cost a fortune..."</p><p>"Shh. No talk about price. It's yours, love." He takes it out and gently slips it on her finger, grinning brightly. "I love you."</p><p>"I love you too so much. I can't wait to marry you. And you'll also be the best daddy in the world."</p><p>Matty tears up slightly and pecks her lips, swaying with her. "I can't wait to marry you. And you'll be the best mommy in the world." He grins and nuzzles her nose lovingly.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Molly comes home from meeting Meena for dinner. It was her day off and Meena had been in town for an important business meeting earlier. She was thrilled to see her best friend again after eight long months. Meena had moved a few years ago and it's been hard to get together due to their schedules, plus she has a family now.</p><p>Sherlock is in his chair with his hands steepled and his eyes closed. He smirks slightly when he hears her come in the door and she smiles. His eyes slowly open and meet hers.</p><p>"Hi. I assume you solved the case you were working on earlier."</p><p>He nods and keeps his eyes on her. "Yes, and I assume you had a nice dinner with Meena."</p><p>"Yeah, it was very nice. It sucks that she lives so far away now. I barely get to see her anymore. She was horrified by the story of what happened." Molly giggles softly. "And not exactly thrilled that I'm officially dating you."</p><p>"Yeah, she hated me that time she visited before. I mean, I was maybe slightly rude, but not /that/ bad."</p><p>"Oh you were bad, Sherlock", Molly snorts and hangs up her coat and purse.</p><p>"Okay fine, maybe I was."</p><p>Molly walks over and straddles his lap, smiling at him. "Mmmh...you are bad. But y'know, sometimes it's very appealing."</p><p>He blinks quickly and clears his throat. Molly giggles and runs her hands through his curls. Sherlock groans softly and leans his head back, allowing her to play with his hair. She gently leans in and teases him with soft kisses on his face, everywhere but on his lips.</p><p>Sherlock looks at her and pouts a bit and Molly can't help but laugh at his sad puppy face. "Yesss?"</p><p>"You know what I want. You're such a tease."</p><p>"Oh, /I'm/ a tease!? /I'm/ a tease, now? Hmmm, serves you right."</p><p>Sherlock laughs deeply and strokes her sides under her top. Molly blushes and looks at his lips, involuntarily nibbling her own. "Possibly, but why starve yourself of something you clearly really want?"</p><p>"Because just once I want to get back at you for teasing me all those times!"</p><p>"Mhh well what if I said I didn't want to tease anymore?"</p><p>Molly raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean, Sherlock?"</p><p>He blushes softly and rubs soft circles on her sides, looking up at her. "I'm ready to take the next step. I'm sick of holding us both back. I'm the curious one, I should want to be adventurous. Also, I have done lots of research about pleasuring a woman, and I think I have it down. You'll just tell have to tell me where exactly you want my...mmph."</p><p>Molly kisses him deeply and passionately, threading her fingers through his curls, and playing with his tongue, sliding it against her own with a pleasurable hum. Sherlock kisses back just as eagerly, quickly letting himself react to her instead of pulling away in fear.</p><p>Within moments they're in bed, snogging as if their life depends on it. Once Sherlock got a taste of the excitement he couldn't get enough. Of course, Molly is more than happy to show Sherlock just how amazing intimacy can be. She takes her time stripping him of his clothing, and he reciprocates, kissing every bit of exposed skin as he goes. She moans airily and pants, watching his lips on her skin.</p><p>Sherlock looks up at her from his place near her stomach where he is kissing her skin, a new kind of hunger and adventure in his eyes. "God, I love the noises you make...", he pants hard as well. They begin to snog again until they run out of air. Molly looks over his body appreciatingly and licks her lips. "Fucking breathtaking. That was obvious for years though..."</p><p>Sherlock chuckles as his eyes rake over her body as well. Molly flushes pink, self-conscious suddenly. Sherlock kisses her softly. "Stop those words from flowing into your mind", he mumbles. "I never meant them...I-I was a horrible, jealous person back then. You are gorgeous Molly. Perfect. I promise. I only want you."</p><p>Molly blushes more and smiles on his lips. "I know, you've proven yourself more times than necessary in the last few months." She strokes his lean chest, chunkier biceps, more toned stomach, and his v line. Sherlock sucks in a breath as his eyes become a hooded with arousal. "Mmm damn, Sherlock..." Molly smirks devilishly and pulls him close, kissing down his body. She's determined to show him just how unscary and absolutely blissful making love can be.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>Sherlock pants and looks at her, his curls totally disheveled and slightly sweaty. Molly has a large hickey on her collarbone and her hair is a mess as well. Her chest is heaving as she comes down from her high, moaning softly. "Goddd..."</p><p>"Mmmh not quite, but close enough", Sherlock murmurs sexily. Molly giggles breathlessly and cuddles close to his chest.</p><p>"Mmm I love you. Wasn't so intimidating now, was it?"</p><p>"No, not at all. Jesus Moll...all this time I thought you were just a sweet, soft-spoken little woman. Damn...you made me /beg/. I have never begged for mercy in my life."</p><p>Molly bites her lip and kisses him lazily. "You deserved the full experience for your first time, Sherlock. I know how you like...cataloguing memories."</p><p>Sherlock groans softly and nuzzles her neck, beginning to nibble at her jaw again. Molly gasps and moans. "Sherlockkk...I should have known that you would be just as insatiable as you are impossible!"</p><p>He laughs deeply and nuzzles her cheek. "What can I say, Molly Hooper, you have opened my eyes to another side of life that I can only have with you. You've made me feel more emotion in the last ten months than I have felt in my entire life. Also, I must add that what you did to me in the last two hours has been the most incredible thing that has happened to my body in my entire life as well."</p><p>Molly grins and happily kisses his nose. "I love you very much. I'm happy that we can have this together. I'm proud of how far you've come and how much you try to balance everything for us."</p><p>He smiles and kisses her softly, holding her close. "I realized that while my work is still very important to me, I don't have to shut out everyone else. I don't have to deny myself happiness to use my gifts, as you so eloquently put it. You make my life complete, Molly."</p><p>She grins and lies her head on his chest again. A bit of small talk and many yawns later, they both doze to sleep in exhausted bliss.</p><p>~~~~~~~</p><p>The next morning Sherlock swoops into the room, his navy dressing gown trailing behind him. "Molly!!"</p><p>Molly jumps a bit and squeaks, almost spilling her tea. "Jesus, Sherlock!"</p><p>"Ohh...sorry..sorry. I-I didn't mean to startle you. I just had the most amazing epiphany and...and I need to know."</p><p>"You need to know, what?", she chuckles as he climbs onto the sofa, curling up next to her as his long knees come up to his chest.</p><p>Sherlock looks hesitant and unsure, swallowing thickly, his excitement drifting away for a moment.</p><p>"Sherlock? What is it? You can tell me anything."</p><p>"It's not to tell, it's to ask."</p><p>"Alright, well...ask, then." Molly looks at him innocently and confused.</p><p>Sherlock clears his throat and takes her mug, placing it on the table, then takes her hands. "Molly I want you to marry me." Her jaw drops and he quickly corrects himself. "No! No, I did it wrong. It was supposed to be a question. Hold on. Reset", he clears his throat again. "Right, okay. Um...Molly. Molly Hooper. Margaret Louise Hooper....will-um...will you marry me?"</p><p>Molly's eyes are filled with tears and her lower lip is trembling.</p><p>"Wh-what did I do wrong, why are you crying, what did I say??"</p><p>Molly giggles through a sob and kisses him lovingly. "Yes."</p><p>"Y-yes!?"</p><p>She grins and cups is face, kissing him again. "Yes, Sherlock. Yes, I'll marry you."</p><p>Sherlock's eyes widen and he grins brightly, hugging her tightly. "Yes! Oh, thank God. I was so worried."</p><p>Molly laughs and gently tackles him back onto the sofa. He gasps and chuckles. "Worried? Sherlock Holmes, I love you, you freaking impossible man!"</p><p>He wraps his arms around her and kisses the top of her head. "Oh! I do have a ring for you by the way. I actually bought it years ago. Just...in case I needed it for a case or something. Y'know sometimes you need a fake spouse for...reasons. But I always would have asked you to be my fake spouse because for some reason when I bought it, I only thought of you. Also, I must say that Tom's ring was an absolute disgrace and did not do your dainty, yet sturdy fingers justice."</p><p>Molly laughs and kisses his cheek. "That was such a Sherlockian explanation, and it was quite funny. Also, I'm oddly flattered that you thought of me as your possible fake spouse for a case. Tom's ring admittedly, was not my style at all. But I'm even more thrilled that I get to be your real spouse. Can I see it?", she grins happily.</p><p>Sherlock smirks and takes a small blue box out of the pocket of his dressing gown. Molly blushes deeply as he opens it and smiles, asking her all over again. She gasps at the gorgeous ring that lies inside. Most /definitely/ her style.</p><p>
  
</p><p>"Oh my God, Sherlock!", she gasps again, looking at it. "It's absolutely perfect! H-How did you know....ugh, what am I saying, obviously you know my style somehow. It's so sparkly!"</p><p>Sherlock beams and nods, slipping it onto her finger gently. "It looks way better on your finger than in the box, future Dr. Molly Holmes."</p><p>Molly tears up again, happier than she has ever been, and hugs him tightly. "I love you so much Sherlock Holmes. I can't wait to be your wife."</p><p>"I love you so much, Molly Hooper. I can't wait to be your husband."</p><p>With that, they both spend the next hour quietly in each other's arms on the sofa. It was then that a thought crossed Sherlock's brilliant mind. A question that he had never been truly able to answer until now. A question that he remembered ten months ago, only to be interrupted. But now, holding his fiancée, the answer was crystal clear.</p><p>This is the definition of home for him. It's not a building, a room, a memory, or a room. It's a soulmate. The person who understands you most in the entire world. Home to Sherlock Holmes is anywhere Molly is, and it always has been. In classic fashion, it just took an absolutely drastic and dangerous situation to make his realize that he cannot live without her.</p><p>Looking down at Molly cozying up to him with the sweetest look of contentment on her face, he smiles and thinks, "Yes, this is definitely home."</p><p>~The End~</p>
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<a name="section0024"><h2>24. One Big Happy Dysfunctional Family Unit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Epilogue to the story. ~Takes place after "Healing Holmes, so I suggest reading that one-shot before this epilogue~</p><p>Molly looks around at her giant, mixed up family, and realizes this is the life she has always wanted.</p>
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      <span class="u">~Epilogue- Takes place about a year and a half after the events of “Healing Holmes”~</span>
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</p><p>Molly settles into the comfy sofa at her stepmother and sister’s home, smiling brightly and taking in the best view she has seen in ages. Her and Sherlock’s newly adopted daughter Cassidy sits on a recliner, reading a medical journal, a crime novel next to her. Though she is five, she’s got Sherlock’s sharply genius and intuitive mind. What’s even fonder is that she looks like Molly; small in stature, and a sweet demeanor.</p><p>Their five-month-old daughter, Abigail, crawls around with her nine-month-old cousin Sapphire, Matty and Mira’s daughter. It came as happy news to Matty and Mira that Abby was due only a few months after Saffy, as they are glad they will have close family. Molly places a hand on her mushy, motherly, but flat-ish belly, the unexpected news of a second baby on the way hitting her and Sherlock earlier this week. The blood test confirmed, as well as the fact that they will be expecting another little girl, to Sherlock’s chagrin. Molly thinks it will be great for Abby to have a sibling so close in age, especially a sister, and Sherlock was thrilled that their family was growing, despite it being so soon after Abby.</p><p>Molly thinks back to their three weddings. It had been hilarious finding out that the men all happened to propose on the same day, but they all had their own weddings months apart luckily. John’s was the most recent, being nervous of course, but knowing without a doubt that he loves Caroline, and that Mary would approve of her as well if she were watching.  </p><p>Today they are all gathered at Meredith and Carly’s house for dinner. It’s been exceptionally nice to have this big, ridiculously twisted family unit. Even John, Caroline, and Rosie join them on occasion, such as today. Rosie is busy coloring at the little craft table Meredith had set up in the corner of the room, and Molly glances at Caroline. She’s shifting in her seat, her very large baby belly causing her some discomfort, though she still has a couple months to go. She and John had broken down about a month ago and decide they could not wait to find out the sex any longer. To their joy, they found out they are expecting a little boy, whom they plan to name Colin John Watson. A welcome change to all of the little girls running around. Rosie is thrilled about her little brother as well, already drawing a little blue bundle into the photos she draws of her family.    </p><p>Molly can hear Sherlock and John laughing in the kitchen as Meredith listens in and cooks the roast. Carly tells them a story about some silly thing that had happened in her first semester at University. She has followed in her sister’s footsteps and decided to pursue Pathology as her major, with minors in Chemistry and Forensics.</p><p>She grins and looks around at all the happy faces, and all the content children. Home isn’t just a place, it’s the people with whom you feel like family with. After everything she’s been through, Molly finally had the family she has always dreamed.</p><p>Suffice it to say, John has as well. Little Colin John took after his jittery father, making his appearance into the world just six hours later at St. Bartholomew’s Hospital, kind enough to have let his mother finish her dinner before announcing that he wanted out…two months early. Unmistakably a Watson, with his tufts of fair blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes like Caroline, resembling his big sister Rosamund Mary.</p>
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